


Oops, i stole your flowers!

by staystray04



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3racha are producers, Angst, Bad attempt at humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Ice Skating, Jeongin and Minho are brothers, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Multi, No Smut, Yang Jeongin | I.N-centric, and hurting, and maybe kiss but shhh, chan is actually a sweetheart, chan just wants the lee-brothers to smile again, chan just wants to hug him better, he just needs some time to accept it, he just steals the flowers to save his ass from seungmin, jisung can't park a car for shit, minchan-centric, minho is mourning, minho is protective, other relationships may occur but are only minor, yang jeongin is lee jeongin in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staystray04/pseuds/staystray04
Summary: The tombstone is of a dark granite with the engraved letters still being easily readable.'Lee Jongwoo' they say and the space in front of the grave is covered in multiple small looking plants, that are so young, that they haven't even had time to bloom yet.There are also two candles and a little bowl with a picture and a silver necklace in it.The boy on the photograph looks not much older than 20, and Chan feels ready to pick his morals back up and face his own death head on like a real man, but the big bouquet lying right in the middle of the grave looks unbelievably tempting.__________AU where Chan forgets to buy flowers in time for his friend's wedding and therefore steals them from the local graveyard in the attempt to save his ass.If only he had known, that his decision would not only change his own life forever...
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 100
Kudos: 121





	1. Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Here i am again with another fic-idea that i had for quite some time now!;)  
> this time, it's mainly about minchan!
> 
> Please comment if it's any good!!

„Tie, tie,tie,...“  
  
Chan's movements are frantic, as he digs through his drawer with growing despair.  
  
Screw this damn client with his admirable huge amount of breath and need to overshare!  
  
Screw his manager for wanting to discuss one of his project right when he was trying to escape the sticky fangs of his workplace.  
  
Screw Changbin for leaving early and screw...  
  
“Ouch!”  
  
Curses right at the tip of his tongue, Chan recoils from his laundry drawer to shake his throbbing finger.  
He really should have repaired that protruding nail when he managed to stab his hand the first time!  
  
Now, five injuries later, the learning effect apparently still hasn't kicked in.  
  
Screw him for being late on a day, that could cost him his neck!  
  
Jimin will most certainly skin him alive, if he pops up in the middle of the aisle instead of her!  
And Seungmin will use his skin as a bedside rug, if he doesn't manage to find a fucking tie!  
  
Shoving his slightly bleeding thumb into the soothing warmth of his mouth, Chan uses his other hand to grab the entirety of the drawer's messy contents and pull them out onto the floor of his room.  
  
It's an indefinable knot of socks and mayhem, but Chan is exceptionally sure, that his dark-gray tie is somewhere in the bundle as well.  
  
Or at least he hopes so, because he is absolutely clueless, where else he should look.  
And it's not like he has the time anyways!  
  
His lips release his wounded finger with a triumphant yell, when his left hand finally finds the silken fabric of the tie.  
  
One look thrown in the direction of the digital clock on his bedside table, however, transforms his cry of victory into one of horror.  
  
Jesus god, he is so damn late!  
  
Not bothering with the tie, Chan simply stuffs it into the pocket of his dress pants.  
Maybe he will find a mirror at the church!  
  
His hand cards through his still damp strands of hair once and he already knows, he will look like some hybrid between a clown and albert einstein on all of Jimin's wedding pictures later, once his curls have dried, but there really is no time left for him to straighten them.  
  
He barely manages to grab his keys and his wallet on his way out, before he slams the door shut behind him and bolts down the stairs of the building.  
  
The church is about three blocks away from here, right beside the graveyard. If he runs the whole way, it will take him about 10 minutes, which would be perfectly in time.  
If only...  
  
Once his feet meet the concrete of the sidewalk, Chan starts sprinting like a madman.  
Hopefully Jihoo has just the right bouquet of flowers for him ready, or he will die a very slow and painful death by either Jimin's or Seungmin's hands for forgetting them.  
  
A fresh gust of wind hits his face and cools down the wet parts of his scalp. It's a reminder, that fall is right around the corner.  
If Chan wouldn't be heaving his lungs out right now while trying to be punctual on his friend's wedding, he would probably need a proper jacket.  
  
Given the circumstances however, he is almost glad, that he won't arrive at the church as a sweat-soaked tomato with asthma.  
  
The grocery store flies past Chan and he can already feel his chest getting tighter from his growing need for oxygen. Out of his peripheral, he recognizes some yellow sign in the markets window, but he doesn't have time to stop and read over it.  
  
Two turns later, the colorful sign of the flower shop appears in Chan's line of sight, which is gradually decreasing thanks to the black dots dancing along the corners of his vision.  
  
It's kind of odd, that not a single plant is decorating the entrance for show, like it normally is the case, when Chan walks past the shop, but he doesn't waste his thoughts on that aspect, until he crashes into the front door with full speed, because other than usually, it doesn't swing open upon his arrival.  
  
With his chest still fighting for survival, Chan tries pushing the entrance open one more time, but the door stays stubborn and insists on raining on his parade of having managed the first part of his way in record time.  
  
Accepting the door's decision, Chan takes a step back to look around. That's when he finally spots the sign on the other side of the window that reads “CLOSED FOR THE HOLIDAY” in big black letters.  
It's underlined twice with a red marker and the paint seems to mock Chan with it's vibrancy.  
  
Of course! How could he forget?  
Jimin chose this day in particular as her weddingday, because it assured, that every last one of her guests would be able to come.  
  
_“So that none of those fuckers can use work as an excuse to get out of buying me a wedding gift!”,_ is how she had explained her heart-warming gesture.  
  
“For fuck's sake...”, Chan mumbles, as he runs his hands through his drying hair repeatedly to ease down his frizzing locks.  
And to massage his scalp in the hopes of getting the blood in his brain to circulate faster and bestow him with a life-saving idea of where to get a bouquet from now.  
  
Jihoo's shop is the only place on this side of the town, that sells flowers. And beside the local distance, he also doesn't have time anymore!  
  
Oh god, Seungmin will kill him. Or Jimin. Or both.  
  
For the fraction of a second, Chan's self preservative instincts let him consider breaking into the shop to save his ass, but then the name of his doom would change to 'Jihoo' or - in the worse case – 'financial penality'.  
  
Neither is an opponent Chan is willing – or able - to face, so he discards the idea as fast as it came and instead decides to push his luck by showing up at the church without flowers.  
Maybe the solemnity of the day will save his ass from Jimin's wrath.  
  
Discarding one more glance towards the shop over his shoulder, Chan starts running again.  
  
Now that he's aware of the holiday, he also realizes the lack of people on the streets.  
Normally, everyone uses the weekdays to stroll around the inner parts of the city on the search for any of the smaller shops, that are located in all the narrow alleyways.  
  
Today however, Chan hasn't even collided with one single pedestrian yet, and he has almost reached his destination already.  
  
The moment he takes sight of the church spire and therefore the huge clock up there, he allows his feet to slow down a bit.  
  
After his little break at the flower shop, his lungs had worked themselves into a healthier rhythm, but Chan decides nonetheless, that this much panting is not what he needs at the tender age of 23.  
As soon as he has more time again, he needs to hit the gym. Or at least more of it than only the strength-focused part.  
His stamina seems to be suffering from his recent lack of interest in cardio.  
  
With the fading adrenaline of the run, however, returns the awareness, that now, Chan might be in time, but that doesn't change one tiny bit of the fact, that he still has no flowers.  
And therefore not exactly increasing chances to live on to see the next day or the gym ever again.  
  
Rapidly searching his brain for a solution, Chan passes the graveyard beside the church.  
  
Even from here he can see the small crowd in front of the church's gates and his stomach drops a bit, when he recognizes Seungmin's face among it.  
  
The younger boy looks exasperated, even from a good distance of about 100 meters, which probably is Chan's fault already for not reaching there earlier, and before his peanut of a brain can register what he is doing, Chan has already ducked behind the big bush that marks the entrance towards the graveyard.  
  
What the fuck is he doing? Seungmin is over three years younger than him!  
“Jesus Christ, Chris, pull yourself together!”, Chan tries to talk some sense into his coward of a personality, but nonetheless, he remains in his spot.  
  
The moment his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, Chan almost leaps five feet into the air. He is barely fast enough to cover a startled shriek from escaping his lips.  
  
As he pulls the – thankfully set on mute – device out to check the call, Seungmin's angry looking name screams into his face. Chan swallows hard.  
  
May god help him. Or maybe Changbin? That guy has a knack for taming Seungmin during Situation's like this one.  
  
“Hey Minnie!”  
  
“Don't fucking 'Minnie' me!”  
  
Okay, Seungmin is not exasperated.  
Judging from his tone and choice of words, he is straight up pissed.  
And Chan is not fond about thinking, what that means for himself.  
  
“Where are you? The ceremony is about to start!”  
  
Seungmin's nasally voice now sounds more nagging than raging over the speaker and Chan huffs a sigh under his breath.  
  
Okay, maybe, he can save this! Seungmin normally is as quick to calm down as he is to blow up.  
  
“I'm almost there, give me two minutes!”, he promises.  
  
A snort can be heard, then Seungmin hums with less than no enthusiasm but rather resigned acceptance.  
  
“Fine, I'll wait for you outside! But hurry! And please, I swear to god - “, the other's voice get's sharper again. “tell me you haven't forgotten the flowers!”  
  
Well, shit!  
  
Chan is unsure of how to answer, but he is absolutely certain, that telling the truth is now not an option anymore.  
Unless he accepts not getting welcomed very warmly by Seungmin.  
  
And with 'not getting welcomed very warmly' he means 'getting beaten to death by his endearing friend'!  
  
In that moment, Chan realizes, that he still hasn't answered Seungmin, and he chokes out a – hopefully – genuine sounding laugh.  
  
“Of course not, Minnie, you know me!”  
  
“That's the problem!”, Seungmin mumbles, before he adds a barked “Hurry up!” and hangs up.  
  
Pulling the peeping phone from his ear, Chan reaches up to loosen his tie, only to realize, that he is still not wearing it and that his decreasing income of oxygen results from his rising anxiety.  
  
Which is fair, because if he doesn't pull flowers out of his ass real quick, his momentary spot on the cementary will become a permanent one.  
And then he will get his fucking flowers when his friend's come to mourn...  
  
Wait a minute...!  
  
Chan is disgusted with himself at the mere idea of doing what he is currently thinking about, but apparently, that doesn't stop his terrified self from at least considering it.  
  
Before he can even start listing up the reasons of why he can under no circumstances pull through with this, if he doesn't wanna shit on his morals big time, Chan already finds himself walking down the grit-covered aisle of the graveyard.  
  
To his left there are a lot of older looking graves, which is why he sways to the right and starts walking down a smaller path, lined by green and stone.  
  
He sees a few candles and the last petals of planted flowers, until finally, one particular grave catches his attention.  
It looks new.  
The tombstone is of a dark granite with the engraved letters still being easily readable.  
'Lee Jongwoo' they say and the space in front of the grave is covered in multiple small looking plants, that are so young, that they haven't even had time to bloom yet.  
  
There are also two candles and a little bowl with a picture and a silver necklace in it.  
The boy on the photograph looks not much older than 20, and Chan feels ready to pick his morals back up and face his own death head on like a man, but the big bouquet lying right in the middle of the grave looks unbelievably tempting.  
  
“You can't do that, Chris! Don't even think about doing that!”, Chan mumbles to himself while very much thinking about it.  
  
He considers his chances.  
  
Since the flowers are so fresh, he doubts that the owner of the grave will visit one more time today. Which will hopefully give him enough time to come here tomorrow with a fresh set of flowers and return them.  
That way it wouldn't be stealing, right?  
  
“May you be rotting in hell!”  
  
Chan is more than just disappointed in himself, as he reaches down to the flowers after a quick look over his shoulder.  
  
“Look, i'm sorry mate, but you are kinda saving my life with this!”, he whispers into the tombstones direction before picking up the bouquet fully.  
  
It's really beautiful with a mix of red, orange and yellow flowers. Chan has no clue, what kinds they are, but he doubts, Jimin will care.  
It's not, like his friend has an expanded knowledge of flower-species!  
  
“I'll return them tomorrow, promise!” Chan assures the picture of the boy, before he quickly gets up and rushes back towards the exit.  
  
While running, he pulls out his phone and snaps a quick picture of the bouquet for him to show Jihoo tomorrow, so that he can return the exact same flowers, that he took.  
He is pretty sure, the photo is a little blurred, but he trusts in Jihoo's professional plant-knowledge to overcome that obstacle.  
In return he will buy her some coffee.  
  
“I'm this close to whipping your ass for being so late!”  
  
By now, Seungmin is the only one standing in front of the church and although he looks very cute with his dark-blue suit and his fluffy brown hair, his expression combined with his held up fingers, that are basically touching, let Chan shiver nonetheless.  
  
“Sorry, I got caught up with work!”, he apologizes, the excuse not even being a total lie.  
After all, that was why he was late in the first place.  
  
“And where is your tie?”  
  
Seungmin crosses his arms and raises his left brow. It does look adorable on him despite his dangerous mood.  
  
Flashing his friend a lopsided grin, Chan reaches into his other pocket – the one that is not carrying his phone and wallet – and pulls out the wrinkled dark tie he brought with him.  
  
All Seungmin does, is facepalm with such eagerness, that Chan would be concerned about his loss of braincells in the process, if he wouldn't be aware, that Seungmin definitely has enough to spare a few.  
  
For Jisung and Changbin, it would have been a different story.  
  
“How do you even manage your worklife?”, is all Seungmin groans before he rips the tie out of Chan's grasp and starts strangling the older with it.  
  
A few choking noises later, Chan can feel his blood circulation being stopped at his neck, but at least now he looks fancy.  
  
“Now come on, we're already so late!”  
  
Grabbing the sleeve of his free hand, Seungmin pulls the church door open and drags Chan after him.  
  
“Good thing, I had enough of a brain to ask Wonpil to save us two seats!”  
  
Blocking out the tiny voice in the back of his head, that pleads him guilty, Chan smiles, as he scoots into the free space beside Seungmin and Wonpil. The latter gives him a short wave.  
  
Chan nods back, then he pats the still slightly grumpy looking Seungmin on the thigh.  
  
“You're right, what would I do without you, Minnie!”, he grins.  
  
His words only earn him an elbow between his ribs, before the ceremony finally starts.

__________

Jeongin is brooding over his maths homework, when the loud slam of the front door disrupts the otherwise silent apartment.  
  
Rushed steps thunder through the hallway and head towards the door of his bedroom, but even though they sound rather threatening, Jeongin is pretty sure, that he is innocent of any crimes.  
So whatever has riled his older brother up, he is positive it can't be him.  
  
The door flies open to reveal a furious looking Minho. He still has his jacket and shoes on, how Jeongin dicovers through a quick glance over his shoulder, and he guesses that the sole purpose of Minho's abrupt visit is his brother's overwhelming need to rant about whatever has riled him up.  
  
“If I get my hands on this fu- hooligan! I swear, it will be his last day on earth!”  
  
Jeongin frowns, as he get's stuck on a particularly hard question in his book.  
  
“Hello to you too, Min!”  
  
Rage-filled huffs can be heard, that wander from the doorframe further into Jeongin's room.  
He doesn't bother to turn around to face his brother though.  
  
If it's a bigger problem, Minho will most certainly stay and force him to listen anyway. If it's not that bad, the older will sigh and leave Jeongin alone to focus on his schoolwork again.  
  
It stay's silent, save for Minho's passive-aggressive foot-pats on the linoleum and so Jeongin tunes everything out to steel his attention.  
  
Where the fuck did that fucking x go?  
Who even decided to throw letters into math problems?  
  
Jeongin would love to travel back in time and slap the culprit upside down with his heavy schoolbook.  
General mathematics, advanced edition.  
A cruel work of literature, that has been able to get him close to wheeping a few times already.  
  
He is ready to return the favor!  
  
His thoughts drift off a little to play with the idea of looking the authors name up online to spare them a visit, but that quickly gets cut off, when Minho suddenly makes his presence known once more.  
  
“I swear to god, Innie, people these days have no respect for anything anymore!”  
  
Jeongin can hear his sorry excuse of a couch creak under Minho's weight, as the older sits down.  
Feeling bold he decides to try and work through one more equation.  
Maybe Minho's cause of headache can wait long enough for him to finish his work for today.  
  
“It's absolutely disgusting, if you think about it properly!”  
  
Okay, screw it! Screw maths, screw school! The universe has very clearly showed Jeongin, that it doesn't want him to continue!  
And who is he to go against the will of the cosmos...  
  
Putting his pen down, Jeongin swivels around in his chair and finally faces Minho, who is still sitting on his couch, gloomy gaze burning a hole into Jeongin's poor wall.  
  
Raising one brow, Jeongin fiddles with the silver rings on his right hand.  
Maybe he has underestimated the situation.  
This doesn't look just like Minho ranting. His brother looks genuinely upset. Almost vengeful.  
  
“Do you wanna elaborate?”, Jeongin carefully offers in the attempt to save his wall, which he is sure, will crumble under his brother's hateful stare otherwise.  
  
Luckily, Minho does react upon his question and lets himself fall back into the couch with another deafening creak.  
  
Jeongin really needs to get himself a new couch before it breaks under one of them at some point!  
  
“I payed Jongwoo another visit!”  
  
Jeongin lowers his gaze down onto the floor, just so he doesn't have to look at Minho.  
  
“Weren't you there today already?”, he says, just to make sure, he isn't messing things up.  
He was with Minho at the graveyard this very morning to deliver a bunch of flowers.  
  
“Why were you there again?”  
  
When he looks up, Minho is avoiding his eyes as well.  
  
“I just walked past it on my way home from work!”  
  
Jeongin swallows another retort.  
  
He'd like to remind Minho of the fact, that the cafe he jobs at, is on the other side of the city, plus that today is a holiday, which means, that Minho didn't even have work in the first place, but he doesn't.  
  
Riling up Minho even more, when he is already like this, is not a healthy thing to do. Neither for himself, nor for Minho's blood pressure.  
  
That way, he simply nods.  
  
“And what got you so worked up?”, he asks instead while ignoring the fact, that Minho is definitely spending too much time in a place for dead people.  
  
He knows, his brother is still mourning, but that doesn't change anything about reality.  
  
“Someone stole Jongs flowers!”  
  
Oh, so that's what this is all about!  
  
Jeongin wants to sigh out of relief and resignation at the same time.  
It's nothing too bad, but at the same time, he is kind of confused too.  
  
Who even steals flowers from a grave? Isn't that below morally acceptable?  
  
For him it's not that big of a deal.  
Jongwoo is gone and Jeongin is too much of an atheist to even consider the idea of Jongwoo getting upset over some stolen flowers. Especially, since the other's personality equaled the one of a little puppy.  
If someone had crossed Jongwoo's path during his life, the guy would probably have given them away voluntarily.  
  
But unfortunately, Minho clings to the belief of Jongwoo still being there somehow, and that's why Jeongin's older brother is in no way as calm as him.  
  
“What a fucktard!”  
  
The words are out Jeongin's mouth before he can stop himself, and Minho's raging glare turns into one of offended shock.  
  
“Innie, words!”, the older chastises, but with the left corner of his mouth tinting upwards a bit.  
Jeongin deems his try of comforting his brother successful, since the older seems to have forgotten about the flower-incident for at least a few seconds.  
  
“Sorry, Min!”, he apologizes nonetheless, because Minho hates swearwords out of his mouth for the sole reason, that Jongs hated them, and Jeongin hates disappointing his brother.  
  
Although he normally swears like a sailor.  
But he has video evidence from Hyunjin, that Minho does the same, so Jeongin doesn't really see the need to feel bad about that.  
It's a white lie!  
  
“I can't believe someone would do that!”  
  
Apparently, Minho is back to brooding. This time it's the floor that falls victim to his stare.  
  
“That's just low!”  
  
Unsure of what to say, Jeongin fiddles with his rings again.  
Anything he could contribute to Minho's current monologue right now would be about his own conviction that Jongwoo isn't really able to care anymore.  
  
And Jeongin is positive, he shouldn't do that if he wants to keep his head.  
  
Okay, maybe he shouldn't joke about death only two months after Jongwoo's burial.  
Thank god Minho can't hear Jeongin's thoughts!  
  
“I wish I could get him new flowers, but i've got classes tomorrow until afternoon!”  
  
Minho is still sulking in his own thoughts.  
He looks genuinely miserable and broken over the fact, that Jongwoo doesn't have flowers anymore, so Jeongin decides to shove his own believes up his ass for a second.  
  
“I can buy flowers tomorrow morning and bring them there!”, he offers.  
“My only class tomorrow is in the evening, so it's fine!”  
  
The hope-filled look Minho throws him is totally worth the words he has swallowed down again instead of spitting them out.  
  
“Really, would you do that?”  
  
Nodding, Jeongin leans back in his chair.  
  
“Sure, I don't want Jongs sad either!”  
  
Minho finally smiles again and Jeongin's mind gets filled with memories from a few years ago, when his brother's grin was still a daily occurrence instead of an annual event that took the right star constellation and a human sacrifice to happen.  
  
Scratch the sacrifice! Jeongin really needs to stop with the destructive sarcasm about death!  
  
“Thank you, Innie!”  
  
The smile still on his face, Minho fights himself out of the couch's squeaky claws and ruffles Jeongin's dark bangs.  
The gesture is infuriating, if Jeongin is honest, but he makes no effort to push his brother's hand away.  
  
Because the amount it is annoying, it's also unbelievably familiar and so much like Minho from before a few months, that he can't help but relish in the feeling of the older's fingers messing with his hair.  
  
Jongs also used to do it. Until he couldn't anymore.  
  
Before those thoughts can get any stronger, Jeongin forcefully fights them back down and orders any free braincell of his to suppress them, until they can't get up anymore.  
  
Overthinking is a dangerous thing in this world. It's like a computer game.  
Your head is the computer, your mind the game and your negative thoughts the bad guy you have to defeat.  
The more you allow your bad thoughts to grow, the harder it will be to win against them. And once you allow them to control you, it's game over!  
  
That's why Jeongin has trained himself to push an alarm button the second he catches himself thinking of what used to be.  
  
Some things won't come back! Some things are simply lost forever and there is nothing he can do against it! No point in denying the reality.  
  
Unfortunately though, he is not so sure, whether Minho isn't currently allowing his villain to grow too strong.  
  
A tiny part of Jeongin is always somewhat scared, that Minho will someday loose his game.  
But he doesn't allow these thoughts to grow either and always eliminates them as soon as he finds one of those little fucker's somewhere inside of him.  
  
The only problem is, that they seem to be like a small phoenixes, rising from their own ashes every time he manages to burn them to the ground.  
  
Minho steps back.  
  
“How about I whip us up some dinner and we watch a movie?”, he asks as he checks the time on his phone.  
“You done anytime with your homework now?”  
  
Jeongin's heart jumps at the suggestion.  
They haven't done that in a long time. Maybe he was wrong about Minho.  
Maybe his brother is stronger than he thought! He is probably already fighting hard against his villain and leveling up further and further!  
  
His guilt about his unfinished maths assignment jumps around within his head, nagging him to finish his shit, but Jeongin snips it away without even sparing it a glance.  
It lands somewhere in the far back of his conscience, where it slumps down and out of his sight.  
  
“I'm done, we can start right away!”, he assures Minho while shoving his book and papers back into his bag.  
“I can help you with the cooking!”  
  
Not catching his lie – the second one for today, how Jeongin notes with discomfort spreading in his stomach for a second – Minho nods.  
  
“Sure, let's get started, foxie!”, he grins. It's only a fraction of his normal wide grin, but Jeongin deems it a success nonetheless.  
  
After all, it's one of the first ones in weeks.  
Baby steps!  
  
Grinning back, Jeongin pulls his brother out of his room and into the kitchen.  
  
They can make this work! Jongs would be proud of them!

__________

When Chan's alarm wakes him up the next morning at six o'clock, he feels ready to say screw it and leave the damn flowers be.  
  
It's not like anyone will ever know it was him...  
  
Groaning, Chan mentally kicks his own ass for even considering to break his promise.  
  
Even if he only gave it to a freaking tombstone, he hates breaking promises.  
There lies some kind of binding magic in the words 'I promise' and Chan doesn't plan on ever going against their power.  
  
What promise Chan gives, he keeps! No matter what it might be about!  
  
He peels himself out of his blanket to be able to punch his alarm clock quiet, like he does every morning, but today, unfortunately, the device apparently decides that it has enough of his treatment, because upon the impact of his fist, it makes a horrible cracking noise, before the beeping dies out, as well as the clocks digital numbers.  
  
If Chan were any more awake, he would maybe be upset about this, but given the time and circumstance, that he only got four hours of sleep after the wedding yesterday, he settles with only heaving a sigh, before he lets the broken alarm be and trudges into the bathroom to get himself ready.  
  
One shower and a fresh outfit later, Chan feels like a human being again.  
A tired one, but at least a representative of the species homo sapiens.  
  
Since he still has some time left until the flower shop opens, he decides to take care of his hair, that seems to stick up in every possible direction once again despite having just been washed.  
  
Luckily, Chan is still in the possession of his last year's birthday gift from Jimin.  
  
Drying his hair, Chan straightens his stubborn curls before styling them a bit until he deems himself presentable.  
  
Normally he doesn't bother too much with his hair, since it's simply too much effort and a waste of time in his eyes, but today, he has a client in the afternoon and Jisung mentioned something about meeting up later, so it's probably safer to stray a bit from his normal work attire of shorts and a sweater.  
  
Being a producer has it's perks!  
  
Finally done, Chan throws over a hoodie nonetheless. The client has seen him before, so he doesn't have to look too formal. They will only be discussing slight changes in the song before the recordings start anyways.  
  
Chan checks the time once more – this time on his phone after throwing a fruitless look in the direction of his broken alarm clock – and can't help a pleased nod, when he realizes, that it's only ten minutes, until Jihoo opens up the flower shop. The exact amount of time he needs to get there by foot!  
  
If only he would always be this on time...  
  
Shouldering his backpack with his stuff for work, Chan grabs his wallet and headphones, shoves his keys into his pocket and steps out the door. It falls shut behind him and he starts his way down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.  
  
Today is a rather gray day with the clouds hanging deep. It's not supposed to rain though, so Chan deems himself safe in his hoodie.  
  
Plugging in his headphones, he searches through his music while walking down the street.  
  
Despite the weather, the streets are more filled today with people walking around and cars passing regularly.  
Most of them are employees on the way to their companies or workplaces, but Chan also catches sight of some middle schoolers and university students, who are easily identified by the stack of books their carry under their arms and the slightly sleep-deprived, stressed yet none-caring expression on their faces.  
  
Finding the song he wanted, Chan presses play.  
He still remembers his time at school. It was a constant floating state between hope and despair.  
Not that he has bad memories, no.  
He had friends and on some days even fun during the lessons when he learned something new.  
  
But there was also a lot of pressure from his grades and his constant wish to be able to finally start producing as a real part of a company instead of only in the music room of his school.  
  
All the money Chan earned over his part-time jobs, went into equipment to be able to make better songs. And eventually, it worked and he got the internship at JYP-entertainment.  
And after that, it was a constant way up.  
  
Sure, there were times, when Chan thought, he would never make it. There were times, when his manager or co-workers weren't content with his work and had him do it over and over again and again. But eventually, it always somehow happened to fit.  
  
And today, he can proudly call himself a producer, together with Changbin, who has been by his side all the time ever since high-school. The both of them really managed to stick together thanks to their similar goal.  
  
Jisung still hasn't managed to gain the official producer title, but Chan is pretty sure, that it won't take too long, until that changes.  
The boy is crazy talented and produces with a livid passion, that Chan hasn't seen in any of the other interns even once yet. He is sure, that Mr. Park, the head of the company, will see his potential as well.  
  
After rounding the next corner, the flower shop eventually comes into sight and Chan pulls off his headphones again to store them in his pocket.  
Before he can check the time, however, the ringing of the church bells echoes through the air and signals him, that he is perfectly punctual.  
  
This time he is greeted by plants lining the entrance of the shop and when he presses against the door, it opens willingly instead of childishly pushing him back.  
  
Inside, Chan has to almost fight himself through a jungle of flowers, until he finally reaches the old wooden counter, behind which Jihoo is seated.  
  
Her eyes are trained on the monitor in front of her and she doesn't look up, until Chan makes his presence known with a fake cough.  
  
Jumping at the sudden sound, Jihoo almost looses her balance in her chair and quickly grabs the edge of the counter for leverage.  
In the process, she accidentally catches the little glass, filled with pencils, with her elbow and chugs it off the table. It bounces once, emptying it's content all over the floor, before it rolls between Chan's feet, where it stays as if looking for cover.  
  
“Jesus, Chris, you scared me!”  
  
Apparently unfazed by the mess she just made, Jihoo slumps back into her chair, that has also seen better days already.  
  
“What brings you here this early in the morning?”  
  
She scrunches her nose up in confusion, mixed with an ounce of evil mockery.  
“Normally you aren't conscious before noon!”  
  
Chan grins sheepishly. As much as he would like to disagree, Jihoo is right.  
Normally, he sleeps longer, since he likes to work until late at night.  
  
But since he can't tell his friend about the crime he committed yesterday, he only gives an awkward laugh.  
  
“I gotta deliver some flowers for a friend of mine!”, he instead answers while avoiding Jihoos suspiciously narrowed eyes.  
He has never been good at lying, especially not right into other's faces.  
  
Jihoo sniffs once.  
  
“Smells like bullshit to me!”, she grumbles but doesn't press on the matter, for which Chan is very grateful.  
In return, he starts picking up the scattered pencils and the glass. On further inspection, it turns out as plastic, which explains the bouncing instead of breaking.  
  
Putting everything back onto the counter, Chan turns his attention back to Jihoo, who is staring at him.  
  
“What?”  
  
Her gaze is making him uncomfortable, since he feels as if everyone looking at him for too long will be able to see what moral abomination he is.  
  
Jihoo raises one of her brows.  
  
“I need to know, what kind of flowers!”, she slowly explains, as if Chan is mentally disabled or something.  
Which he actually considers to be true for a second, when he realizes, that he hasn't ordered yet.  
  
Ignoring the feeling of his ears heating up, Chan hastily whips out his phone and opens his gallery, where he finds the slightly blurry picture of the flowers from yesterday.  
He shows it to Jihoo.  
  
She scoffs.  
  
“How the hell am I supposed to tell the flower species from that poor excuse of a photo?”  
  
Crossing her arms over her chest, she grins smugly at Chan.  
  
“I'm think I'm gonna need more than just the picture!”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Chan puts his phone down on the counter for Jihoo to see better.  
  
“The payment should be motivation enough, you greedy wombat!”, he shoots back but complies nonetheless by raising his offer.  
  
“I'll buy you coffee!”  
  
“What even is a wombat?”, Jihoo asks with slight confusion but pulls the phone closer towards her to examine the picture.  
  
“An animal from australia!”, Chan only gives back without going into detail.  
He feels like he is gonna risk Jihoos newfound compliance with his request, if he elaborates about that animal's character traits.  
  
“I guess I'll have to google that!”, Jihoo mumbles back, but her voice sounds a little further off. Apparently she is already mentally going through all the possible flower species she could eventually be dealing with.  
  
A moment later, her expression lights up and she snaps her fingers in enlightenment.  
  
“I think I got it!”  
  
She rushes off, practically dancing through the shop and collecting various flowers from different spots, until she returns to Chan and the counter with a big bouquet in her hands, that thankfully really looks exactly like the one Chan stole yesterday.  
  
Although he wouldn't exactly bet on his own judgment.  
To Chan, flowers all look the same.  
  
“That should be about it, if i'm not wrong!”  
  
Jihoo hands Chan the flowers, but he hesitates to take them.  
Something is different!  
  
One more look at his phone reminds him.  
  
“Could you maybe wrap them in a similar paper?”, he asks carefully.  
He has absolutely no idea, how he is supposed to explain his request, if Jihoo demands to know.  
  
Thankfully, she doesn't but only bestows him with one more judging glance before she pulls out a bunch of wrapping paper, that looks awfully familiar.  
  
Too familiar.  
  
It's the exact same paper as the bouquet from the graveyard was decorated with and Chan prays to the heavens above, that Jihoo doesn't remember, that she has sold the exact same bouquet twice now.  
  
If she does, Jihoo doesn't let it show, because she simply finishes her work and types it into the cash register.  
  
“That'll be 24000 Won!”, she let's Chan know and he quickly takes out his wallet and pays.  
  
By now, he is eager to escape the shop and get this whole thing over with!  
  
“I'll bring you coffee tomorrow!”, he assures Jihoo, who slumps back into her chair.  
The grin on her face is a bit too knowing and smug for his liking.  
  
“Sure, make sure to make it extra large in return for me saving your ass!”, she replies and Chan doesn't bother to stay for even one second longer to find out what she means with that.  
He simply waves her goodbye and exits the shop with the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.  
  
Back outside, he heaves a sigh before pushing his headphones back into his ears and starting his music anew while maneuvering his steps into the direction of the graveyard.  
  
Part one of his plan has -more or less - successfully been completed!  
  
Now comes the second part!


	2. Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About pencil-jar-threatening-extrovert-girls with too much breath and flower-stealing-too-dorky-to-be-evil-guys that Need conversational jump-starts to talk.
> 
> \- a novel by Jeongin (Lee Jeongin in this case)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finally finished the second chapter for this? It's hella short though, but I'm working on it, guys!  
> Please be Patient with me!

When Jeongin walks into the flower-shop, the girl, who works there, is already seated behind the counter, busy scribbling something down in an old notebook, that looks, like it has been used to defend it's owner against a dog with rabies.  
  
Since there is no bell above the door, that announces his arrival, Jeongin takes it upon himself to catch the girls attention with a clearing of his throat.  
  
It does work. Just maybe a bit too well.  
  
With a startled yelp, the girl sits up so abruptly, that she almost leaves the safety of her old-looking chair.  
Barely able to catch herself, the girl grabs the counter, only to knock over a jar of pencils, that is placed there.  
  
Jeongin already flinches on instinct at the expectation of the loud sound the jar would make, but that turns out to be superfluous.  
  
With one quick movement, that lets him wonder, just how used the girl is to clearing the surface of her desk involuntarily, she catches the filled jar on it's way downwards and places it back on the desk with a pang.  
Holding on to it for a few more seconds as if to make sure, that the jar will under no circumstances come up with the idea to repeat its previous stunt, the girl finally turns towards Jeongin with a wide smile on her lips.  
  
“Hey there, kiddo! Didn't see you come in!”  
  
“I noticed!”, Jeongin simply replies.  
  
He proceeds to examine the flowers around him with a frown.  
  
Minho always places a special order for Jongwoo, because the older knows a bit about plants and picked them especially for their older brother, based on the latter's favorite colors - red, orange and yellow.  
  
Jeongin however, knows about plants even less than he does about maths – which gets him to a solid zero-level of flower-savvyness!  
How convenient, that he forgot to ask Minho what kind of bouquet he wants for Jongs.  
  
“Are you looking for something in particular?”, the girl asks him.  
  
By now, she has released the poor jar but still eyes it suspiciously from time to time.  
  
“Maybe I can help you!”  
  
Deciding, that simply staring at the many species of flowers around him won't get them to tell him their name either, Jeongin nods hesitantly.  
He is not completely comfortable talking to strangers thanks to his own introverted ass, but the girl seems nice enough.  
  
Jihoo - according to her nametag – definitely has bigger chances of finding him the correct flowers after all.  
  
“I need to find some bright flowers for my brother!”, he therefore carefully explains.  
“Minho normally places a special order, but I don't know it.”  
  
“Oh Minho? Lee Minho!”  
  
The girl's – Jihoo's – eyes light up at the name.  
When Jeongin gives another nod, she smiles even wider.  
  
“I know him! He is a regular here! You must be his younger brother then, am I right?”  
  
Another nod.  
Jeongin is slightly scared, that Jihoo might find his lack of expanded response annoying, but what else would be there for him to say? Maybe varying wordings of agreement?  
Right now, all that comes to his mind, is 'yes'.  
  
“I take it, the flowers are for Jongwoo?”  
  
“That's right!”, Jeongin answers in the attempt to throw a little bit of diversity into his choice of replies.  
He feels kind of ridiculous nonetheless.  
  
Luckily, Jihoo only grins.  
  
“You aren't much of a talker, are you?”, she asks and Jeongin is unbelievably glad, that this time, he can shake his head instead of sticking to his previous gestures of confirmation.  
  
He does talk. Just only to his friends and Woojin.  
Not to some random girl at a flower shop, that glare-threatens poor pencil-jars in her free time.  
  
Jihoo seems unbotherd by anything he does.  
  
“No problem, I am enough of one for the both of us!”  
  
Jeongin doesn't doubt that for even a second.  
  
Leaving her counter, Jihoo starts skimming through the aisles between the shop's shelves, collecting a few flowers from varying spots.  
When she returns, the bouquet in her hands looks similar to the one Woojin had brought with him yesterday, when they had visited Jongs grave in the morning.  
Or at least, it seems to have all the needed colors.  
  
“I will wrap a damp cloth around the stems for the flowers to keep fresh longer!”, Jihoo informs Jeongin while already taking action.  
“That way, your brother can stop coming here every damn day and spend his money on something else than overly expensive bouquets, that will only wither away for no one to be seen anyways!”  
  
This time, Jeongin actually feels the need to speak up.  
  
“If you work here, shouldn't you be happy to have a regular customer?”, he asks.  
  
Jihoo only huffs while she wraps the flowers in some fancy-looking paper.  
  
“Normally I would be, but by now, even I am concerned, how your brother is gonna pay your rent the next month!”  
  
“He doesn't! Our uncle from America supports us financially!”, Jeongin explains earnestly.  
  
Jihoo's already grumpy expression turns even more peeved.  
  
“Feel free to buy the entire shop then!”, she grumbles before shoving the finished bouquet into Jeongin's hands.  
“That'll be 24000won then!”  
  
Digging into his pocket, Jeongin pulls out the few tattered bills Minho had left him this morning to pay Jihoo with.  
  
“Min said that you can keep the change!”, he informs the girl and her eyes light up with greed.  
  
“Tell your brother, his role as my favorite customer is restored!”, she grins as she takes the money.  
“Although he will soon have to defend it against Channie, who's gonna bring me coffee tomorrow morning! That's tough competition!”  
  
Nodding politely, although he doesn't have the slightest ounce of a clue, what Jisoo is talking about, Jeongin carefully places his flowers in the crook of his arm to have his hands free to fish for his cellphone.  
It's already half past seven. He has spent quite some time in the shop.  
  
“Oh yes, by the way...”  
  
Apparently, Jisoo plans on keeping him a little longer.  
There is an almost smug looking grin on the girl's face and Jeongin suppresses his urge to shudder.  
  
He has always found girls a little creepy.  
They have the terrifying ability to look like sunshine and flowers and shit while hiding hellfire and earthquakes!  
  
“I'm not completely sure, but it could eventually be, that you won't need the bouquet today!”, Jihoo goes on, and Jeongin's intimidation makes room for confusion.  
  
“Why would I not?”, he asks, but Jihoo only gives him a knowing smile.  
  
“In case I am right, you can just put the flowers into fresh water at home. Like that, they should survive for the next two to three days!”  
  
A part of Jeongin wants to protest and try to nag the girl into telling him, what she means.  
But the other part has been eager to get out of the shop even before actually entering it, so he rather takes his chance to run.  
  
“Okay thank you!”, he replies curtly while already heading for the exit.  
  
“Have a nice day!”, Jihoo's overly sweet voice sounds from somewhere behind him.  
“And don't forget to greet Minho from me!”  
  
“I won't!”  
  
Two quick steps, then Jeongin finally is out the door and on the safety of the sidewalk.  
He lets out a deep sigh.  
  
Jihoo is one of those people that have an unbelievably exhausting level of extroverted aura surrounding them.  
The exact polar opposite to Jeongin and in this case, they certainly do not attract each other.  
  
Or at least, Jeongin does not feel very attracted.  
He doubts that it's different for Jihoo after her getting to know his mind-blowing repertoire of conversational input.  
  
Mentally, he makes a note to not set a foot into this flowershop ever again, as long as he is alone.  
Then he starts heading for the cemetery.  
  
Despite the sky being tinted a dirty gray, Jeongin enjoys the fresh air and the slight breeze blowing into his face, as he walks down the street.  
It keeps the crowds inside and allows him to breathe freely – in more ways than just one.  
  
There actually has been a time not too long ago, when Jeongin had been more social, more outgoing.  
He himself isn't entirely, sure, why or when it stopped. Probably when Jongwoo got too sick to leave his bed.  
That's when Jeongin and Minho started to spent all of their free time with him to make him feel less lonely during his last months.  
And after Jongwoo's passing, Jeongin just never really started again with the whole meeting-friends-thing.  
  
_'Guess I grew out of practice!'_  
  
Leaving the last block of houses behind, Jeongin catches sight of the graveyard's entrance.  
It almost looks familiar already, with how often he has been here these past few weeks, courtesy of Minho.  
  
He bets, he has counted the amount of trees lining the fence at least ten times already and Minho practically lives here by now, as long as he isn't studying or working.  
  
Him and his brother really need to get a life again, Jeongin decides.  
One that doesn't evolve around dead people.  
  
Jongwoo wouldn't have wanted it like that!  
  
The gravel crunches beneath Jeongin's shoes, as he enters the cemetery.  
  
_'Like cornflakes!'_ , his brain somehow compares and Jeongin blames the weird thought on his lack of social activity.  
Or maybe it's the fact that he hadn't had breakfast yet.  
  
The way to Jongwoo's grave is one, that Jeongin is sure he could manage blind.  
What is new however, is someone already being there, as the tombstone finally comes into sight.  
  
It catches Jeongin off guard and he halts his steps, as he examines the stranger, that is partly kneeling, partly squatting in front of Jongwoo's picture.  
  
He looks about Minho's age and has his hair bleached a dark blond.  
In his hands, the stranger is holding a vibrant bouquet, that contrasts hard to his completely colorless choice of clothing and looks awfully similar to the one resting in the crook of Jeongin's arm.  
  
He has to double-check, until he believes it but it's true!  
It's the same flowers, the same size, - even the same damn wrapping paper.  
  
“Sorry again!”, the stranger suddenly speaks up in an apologetic sounding tone, and Jeongin flinches hard in surprise, until he realizes, that the stranger is talking to the tombstone instead of him.  
  
“I really shouldn't have done that!”, the stranger mumbles on, as he places his bouquet on the beet of the grave.  
“Here are your flowers, like I promised I would bring them back. Sorry for taking them in the first place. But if it makes up anything, Jimin really loved your flowers and Seungmin let me live on, thankfully.”  
  
Oh. So _that_ is Jongwoo's flower-thief!  
  
Jeongin had imagined the dude a bit meaner-looking.  
More with small malicious eyes and dirty clothing and a beard and a cigarette between yellow teeth and – okay, Jeongin really needs to work on his stereotypes!  
  
Jongwoo always loved the phrase 'Never judge a book by it's cover!'.  
Jeongin should start living by that statement as well. It's just more noble.  
  
“So yeah, anyways, thanks and sorry again!”, the stranger eventually ends his speech.  
  
As he gets up, he gives the tombstone an awkward pat. It looks ridiculous and Jeongin decides in that very moment, that this guy can't be all evil.  
Villains are sharp and clever, not dorky.  
  
There he goes with his stereotypes again.  
Nonetheless, Jeongin sticks to his conclusion.  
  
“So it was you!”  
  
The stranger releases a high-pitched shriek, which Jeongin really didn't see him even being able to produce, and makes an admirable far jump to the right – away from Jeongin.  
  
If this guy really turns out to be as rotten as his action of stealing Jong's flowers was, then – so Jeongin thinks – his whole childhood in between action movies and adventure-stories has been one big fat lie.  
  
No villain he remembers has ever been this jumpy.  
  
The stranger only gapes at him with widened eyes, so Jeongin elaborates his previous statement.  
  
“You were the one who stole Jong's flowers yesterday!”, he explains further, while taking a few steps closer to not have to yell across half the graveyard for the stranger to understand him.  
“I was already wondering, what kind of person would do something like that.”  
  
Okay, that might have come out harsher than Jeongin intended for it to.  
  
The stranger flinches hard. His eyes widen just so much more, that Jeongin gets slightly concerned about the dude's eyeballs popping out of their sockets.  
The next moment, the guy starts waving his arms through the air in such vehement movements, it looks more aggressive than defensive – which Jeongin concludes the gestures were actually meant to be.  
  
“I'm really really sorry, I don't know what came over me yesterday!”, the stranger starts rambling.  
He is actually a little shorter than Jeongin.  
  
“I forgot to buy flowers for my friends wedding in time and somehow, I came up with the dumb idea to lend some flowers from the graveyard, since Seungmin is so damn scary, once he gets angry and since I didn't want him to use me as a bedside-rug, I somehow acted without thinking...please don't kill me?”  
  
For the second time that day, Jeongin has not the slightest idea, what his conversational partner is trying to tell him, but this time, somehow, he finds it less nerve-wracking.  
  
Maybe, because he isn't the one, who thinks they have to defend themselves in front of the universal moral court.  
  
“Chill, I'm not mad or anything!”, he reassures.  
  
The stranger's shoulders relax a little, but more in surprise than relief.  
  
“Lucky you it wasn't my brother, that discovered you. He cares a lot more about all this, and would have skinned you instead, probably!”, Jeongin adds as an afterthought and the stranger is right back to being as tense as before.  
  
Jeongin internally slaps himself for his awesomely tactful abilities.  
  
“Don't worry though, he's got classes til noon, so you aren't in any danger!”  
  
The stranger seems non-verbal again and Jeongin is slightly unsure of how to keep this talk going all by himself.  
He tries his luck with basic communication.  
  
“I'm Jeongin, by the way!”  
  
He sticks his free hand, that isn't holding onto his own bouquet, out for the stranger to take and after a few more seconds spent in silence, the dude actually reaches out and shakes it.  
His palm is a little sweaty.  
  
“Chan!”, he slowly replies.  
  
His eyes now narrow a little in suspicion, as if he doesn't quite believe Jeongin's peace-offering.  
  
“You are not mad at me?”  
  
Jeongin allows himself to grin, now, that the stranger – Chan – has started reacting to his tries of interaction.  
  
“Nah, you brought them back after all!”, he shrugs.  
“As far as I understood it, you were in dire need and in that case, Jongs would have given them to you anyways, if he had still been here, so we're cool!”  
  
The guy's gaze wanders back to the tombstone, where Jongwoo's photo is still resting in the little bowl Minho had put there after the burial.  
  
“Jongs. You mean Jongwoo. Was he a friend of yours?”  
  
Jeongin actually thought, that he was done mourning, so he is unprepared for the sting in his chest, when Chan mentions Jongwoo in past-tense.  
His next smile is crooked for sure, if the way it feels is anything to go by.  
  
“My brother!”, he corrects quietly.  
“He passed away a little over two months ago.”  
  
The guy's features contort with sympathy and shock.  
  
“Oh shit, I'm so sorry!”  
  
He awkwardly rubs one of his ears.  
  
“I wasn't aware, it was that recent.”  
  
“Not your fault!”, Jeongin only replies.  
  
He already talks about this with Minho 24/7.  
No need to carry this topic into foreign conversations as well.  
  
“It was a long known fact to all three of us, that he would die sooner or later.”  
  
The stranger scrunches up his nose.  
  
“Three?”, he asks in obvious confusion.  
  
Jeongin nods.  
  
“I have one more brother. The one I mentioned before, who would kill you, if he would find out, it was you who stole Jongs' flowers.”  
  
_'Awesome, Jeongin, you're doing great on the tact-thing!'_  
  
Trying to save the conversation, Jeongin quickly continues.  
  
“Anyways, Jongs was the human equivalent of kindness, so he wouldn't have had a problem with lending you his flowers! So no worries!”  
  
The stranger looks, like he wants to add something, but before he can as much as get one word out, a low grumble disrupts the air between him and Jeongin.  
They both look down at the culprit of the noise and Jeongin curses himself for not eating breakfast before heading out this morning.  
  
But how could he have known, that his simple trip to the cemetery would turn into an adventure including pencil-jar-threatening-extrovert-girls with too much breath and flower-stealing-too-dorky-to-be-evil-guys that need conversational jump-starts to talk.  
  
All in all, Jeongin has had a rather exhausting morning so far.  
And it's only eight!  
  
“You seem hungry!”, the guy opposite him observes very sharply.  
It proves yet again Jeongin's theory of him being too dense to be truly evil.  
  
“Yeah, I haven't had breakfast yet!”, he answers nonetheless.  
  
The guy's entire face lights up.  
  
“Let me treat you!”, he exclaims more than just enthusiastically and Jeongin needs a moment to grasp the intentions behind his words.  
  
“Pardon?”, he asks nonetheless, more out of instinct than true misunderstanding.  
  
“I stole your brother's flowers, which is probably the reason, why you are here right now, if I'm concluding correctly!”, the stranger explains while pointing at the new bouquet in Jeongin's arm.  
  
Jeongin is genuinely surprised, that the guy managed to deduce that all on his own.  
Maybe, he isn't as dense as Jeongin assumed at first.  
  
“The least I can do now, is treat you to breakfast!”, the stranger ends and although Jeongin has learned from the very first day of his life, that he shouldn't go with creepy dudes – and especially not for offered food – he can't really find a fault in the guy's reasoning.  
  
Didn't he want to get a life again anyways?  
  
“Actually, “, he therefore replies. “I might take you up on that offer. I left my wallet at home this morning, since I was In a rush.”  
  
The stranger breaks into a beaming smile that is accompanied by friendly dimples in his cheeks. It's so radiant, that Jeongin can't help but grin back.  
  
He hasn't felt the warmth of a bright smile in, like, forever.  
The last time Minho did it, Jongwoo was still with them and healthy enough to walk on his own.  
It must have been half an eternity ago, if Jeongin thinks about it properly.  
  
“Great, let's go then!”, Chan interrupts his memories and Jeongin is almost thankful for that.  
“Unless you have somewhere you want to go, I know this nice small cafe at the end of the mall! It's not as heavily crowded as all the other ones and therefore more cozy!”  
  
Shrugging, Jeongin nods.  
  
“Sure, no objections from my side!”, he agrees.  
  
His stomach rumbles again and Chan flashes him a good-natured grin.  
  
“Guess, we hurry then!”  
  
Jeongin can't and doesn't want to argue with that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this was short, but i hoped, you guys liked it nonetheless.
> 
> Still no minchan yet though. This is a slowburn fic after all...did i tag that?
> 
> Anyways, stay save everyone!:)
> 
> AND STAN STRAYKIDS NEW ALBUM!!! WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE SONGS??  
> I LISTENED TO 'TA' WHILE RUNNING YESTERDAY AND I CAN TELL YOU; IT FUCKING HYPES!!!  
> I nearly died from lack of Oxygen afterwards because the song made me Forget, that i can't fucking sprint for three minutes straight...


	3. Thirds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chan is late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i have had this chapter for over a week now, but i deemed it too short and wanted to add something.  
> Since my brick of a brain does not come up with anything tho, i figured, it would be better to at least post this for now and think about more stuff afterwards.
> 
> Also, i have no fucking clue about Music Majors and University and stuff. The internt told me, combining two Majors is possible, so i relied on that, but please dont take my word for it!
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

One hour and an unbelievably delicious breakfast later – Jeongin really needs to note the cafe's name down to visit it with his brother or Seungmin as well – Jeongin has already learned a few very important things.

One, Chan is in no way as dense as he had thought at first, but a rather funny and comfortable companion.

Two, Jeongin was completely right with his conclusion, that the guy is too dorky to be evil.

If there was a scala, that would measure someones evilness-level, Jeongin is sure, Chan would have a negative result. 

At first, Jeongin had been a little suspicious, because there can't be a guy that is that nice to everyone. But when he hears Chan apologizing to a spoon he just dropped, shortly before Jeongin even reaches their table from his bathroom-break, he finally let's reality convince him.

Chan really is that nice.

Apart from being nice, Chan is also incredibly interesting to talk to and Jeongin finds himself enjoying this unexpected encounter with the boy.  
Or rather man, since Chan is already 23, how Jeongin learns during their conversation. 

Twenty-three and a producer at JYP-entertainment. 

“That's the company, my brother's favorite artist was under!”, he lets Chan know, and the older frowns.

“The one that is gonna strangle me later on?”, he asks and despite the topic, Jeongin can't help but grin.

“Skin you, but no, not that one!”, he corrects.  
“I meant Jongwoo! He loved music til the very end, because he said, it took his pain away better than the pills.”

A shadow darkens Chan's features and Jeongin gets overcome by guilt.  
Here he is again, ruining the mood.  
Maybe it's his own fault, that Minho always dwells on the past.

“I guess, you wouldn't appreciate me asking about Jongwoo, would you?”

Chan's gaze holds sympathy, but Jeongin gives zeros fuck about that.  
He has gotten enough sympathy for a lifetime already.  
It doesn't change things either.

“I don't particularly care!”, he mumbles.  
“If it's about, what happened to him: He died of cancer!”

It gets silent for a moment, save for the typical cafe-sounds of clanking dishes and quiet murmurs of the two older women two tables away from theirs.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Chan then offers and Jeongin almost gets up and leaves the cafe. 

No, he certainly doesn't want to talk about it!  
Not again, not today, too, not with Chan as well. 

He has chewed this topic thousands of times already, but every time he tries to swallow it down, someone – mostly Minho – figuratively uses the Heimlich maneuver on him to get it back out of his throat. 

But Chan has been kind to him all morning and Jeongin doesn't have it in him to be that rude to a guy that holds open doors for him and apologizes to cutlery.  
So he simply settles for shaking his head.

A few seconds long, Chan just stares at him. Then he suddenly smiles and leans back in his chair.

“Alright, understood!”

He picks up his almost empty coffee-cup and sips on the last bit, that is still left inside.

“What about you, then?”

The sudden change of attitude almost gives Jeongin whiplash despite his gratefulness for it and he has to take a moment, before his brain catches up to Chan's question.

“What about me?”

Putting the now empty cup down, Chan shrugs casually.

“You know, what do you like to do? Your brother liked music, but what is it that you like?”

Jeongin takes his time to think.  
What does he like? He doesn't do much in his free-time to be honest.  
Besides studying for school and playing video-games with Hyunjin or Seungmin, he normally just stays at home. 

Although there had been a time, when it had been different.

“Lately, I haven't been doing much!”, he finally admits.  
“But I used to work out rather regularly before and the passion for music runs in my entire family. Jongs and I used to often sing together to him playing the guitar or the piano, while Min coreographed dance routines to our favourite songs.!” 

Eyes lighting up, Chan leans forward again to prop his arms onto their table.  
His elbow almost pushes his empty dishes off the surface but Jeongin already sees it coming, and thankfully manages to save the poor cup from its' doom. 

He is pretty sure, Chan would have been devastated, if he had broken something.  
No amount of apologizing would have repaired that after all.

“Passion for music is a topic I know my way around very well!”, Chan grins.  
“Do you have a favorite artist or group?”

“I do like Bruno Mars!”, Jeongin explains.  
He can feel his heart jump at the opportunity to talk about his role-model.

“His songs fit my voice the best, I think!”

Chan's eyebrows rise in surprise. 

“That sounds like you have given that a lot of thought already!”, he comments.  
“Do you want to do something related to music after school?”

Jeongin can feel his own lips curling up into a smile.  
It's been a while, since someone asked him about his plans for life. Jongwoo sometimes did it, but during his last few months, his brother was barely able to hold proper conversations anymore.

And Minho seems to have forgotten entirely, that there still is something such as a future.

“I want to major in music, once I apply to university!”, he confesses to Chan. 

The words sound weird in his own ears, since it is the first time he actually hears himself say them.  
Even towards Jongwoo he never really specified, what exactly he wanted to do later on. Which also comes from the fact, that back then, Jeongin had still been indecisive.  
Only after Jongwoo's death, he finally worked out what he really wanted.

Chan's eyes are shining. 

“I didn't know, you were that much into music! Which music major are you gonna choose?”

He looks like an excited preschooler, but it's way better than the usual look of pity Jeongin has gotten sick of these past few weeks.

“I wanted to combine composition and performance!”

Chan nods in understanding.

“A lot of work, but it will give you a good basis!”

He picks some crumbs off the table and places them back on their empty plates before straightening the table cloth with the tiny flower-vase on it.  
It's such a Chan-thing to do, something Jeongin can already determine even after only knowing the guy for a little over two hours.

Once the table is tidy, Chan looks back up.

“What about songwriting and producing?”, he asks.  
“Do you want to take lessons on that, too?”

Jeongin shrugs.

“Don't know, yet.”, he replies thoughtfully. 

He has considered it before, because so far, his creativity and lyric-skills are basically non-existent.  
But since he has played with the thought of trying to apply to one of the entertainment-companies around here, or even closer to the heart of the city, he is unsure, when he will have the time or resources to actually add producing-lessons – let alone a major in producing to his daily schedule. 

Apart from that, he also doubts that he will have enough patience to wait another two to three years, until he can finally do something with all the knowledge he will gain in university.

“I will maybe try to add it later on, but before that, I want to collect some first-hand-experiences.”

“Through working in a company or with other artists!”, Chan immediately catches on. 

He really isn't dense at all. Jeongin has no idea, how he ever could have misjudged Chan like that.

“Yup, exactly!”

Another grin dimples Chan's cheeks. 

“You might wanna visit me in the company then -”, he starts, but before he can properly finish his sentence, the phone he has placed at the side of the table, starts vibrating angrily.

Chan first shoots the phone a frown, before he sends an apologetic smile into Jeongin's direction.

“Do you mind, if I take that?”, he asks and Jeongin really has a hard time grasping the range of the guy's politeness.

Minho would either just take the call or shut his phone off, depending on whether he is interested in the caller or not.

“Sure, no problem!”, he assures Chan, and the older finally takes the complaining device to hold it up to his ear.

“Yes, Binnie?”

Even without speaker-mode. Jeongin can understand the caller's words perfectly well.

“Where the fuck are you? We said, we would start at half past nine!”

Chan visibly pales.

“Oh shit, is it that late already ?”

He looks over to Jeongin with widened eyes and Jeongin switches on his own phone-screen to hold it up for Chan to read the time.

10:12am.

“Fuck!”, Chan only notes very intelligently.

“Yeah, damn right!”, the guy on the other side of the line grumbles.  
“You better get your ass here within the next ten minutes or you will be paying for my coffee for the entire next week!”

“But...”, Chan tries to starts, but his caller hangs up on him before he can get another word in.

Chan huffs.

“Not all of us have a damn car!”, he mumbles sulkily. 

Meanwhile, Jeongin is too busy to admire Chan's pout to react to his complain.  
How old is the guy again? Twenty-three?

“I'm really sorry, Jeongin, but I have to go!”

That gets Jeongin to snap back and he blinks a few times.

“I heard!”, he replies, but let's Chan know, he isn't upset by grinning at him.  
“Your colleague didn't sound too appreciative of you being late. Does this happen rather often?”

Collecting his phone and wallet from the table, Chan sighs.

“Not that often!”, he objects, but his defensive tone is enough to tell Jeongin, that even he himself doesn't believe his own words.

“Well, you better hurry, unless you have enough money to pay for one week's worth of coffee!”, he remarks while getting up himself to pull his jacket back on.  
“JYP is way further away from here than just a ten-minute walk!”

Chan let's out a groan.

“I know!”

He stacks up their used dishes, so that the waiter will have it easier to collect them. Typical.

“It's at least a fifteen-minute-run! No way I can make in in time!”

Jeongin doesn't even question, why he knows that.  
He simply accepts it and follows Chan towards the counter of the cafe, where he waits behind him, until Chan has payed for the both of them, just like he has promised.

Of course the older also throws some coins into the tip-jar of the waiter, that hasn't even served them once yet, since Chan went to collect their orders himself in the beginning.

The air feels chillier than before, when they step back outside onto the streets.  
It's still comfortably empty for Jeongin's taste, since most other people are working at the moment.

Chan turns towards him with a wide smile.

“Thank you so much for not reporting me back then!”, he beams and Jeongin can't help but snort.

Report? In what dimension does Chan live? The police would have laughed their asses off, if Jeongin would have tried to file a complaint for someone stealing a fucking bouquet from the graveyard.

He doesn't say that though but only nods with his teeth buried in the inside of his cheek to not grin.

“Sure, no problem! You bribed me with food after all!”

Chan laughs.

“Yah, it wasn't bribery!”, he exclaims and Jeongin can't help but allow himself to join the laughter.

“What else do you wanna call it then?”  
He smirks.  
“Maybe, in exchange, I should throw in some blackmail! Buy me candy and I won't tell my big evil brother, what you did!”

At least, Chan doesn't flinch anymore at Jeongin mentioning Minho.

“The one, that will strangle me?”, he only asks in amusement and Jeongin grins.

“Skin you!”, he reminds once again.  
“But yes, that one!”

“By the way...”, he then adds with another glance at his phone.  
“You now have five minutes left until your coffee-penalty!”

Chan sighs one last time before he makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“I'll sweet-talk Binnie into letting me off the hook!”

The guy from the call from before didn't exactly sound like the type of person you can sweet-talk into doing things, but Jeongin assumes, that Chan knows what he is doing.  
The two of them sounded close after all, judging by the amount of swearwords they used during their short conversation.

“Guess, that's it then!”, he says instead and only now, he becomes aware of what his words mean.

Right. Chan is actually a stranger to him. Just some dude, he met at the cemetery. 

After said dude stole his dead brother's flowers.

Weird. Jeongin is surprisingly down at the thought of never talking to Chan again.  
Their conversation was somewhat relaxing. Jeongin hasn't felt that comfortable with someone else in a long time.

“For now, yes!”, Chan agrees.  
“But if you are up to it, I would love to exchange numbers! Maybe we can meet up some other time again!”

Shortly, Jeongin frowns.  
Is Chan maybe...hitting on him? 

Jeongin doesn't want to assume the guy's sexuality, but what person wants to hang out with someone four years their junior?

Nonetheless, Jeongin discards the idea as quickly as it popped up in his mind.

This is Chan.  
The guy is way too friendly to fish for Jeongin's attention that way.  
And besides, Jeongin isn't obnoxious enough to believe that a guy like Chan would be interested in him. 

So Jeongin decides to take the risk, do something new for once.  
He has never made friends on the street, let alone a graveyard, but he figures, there is a first time for everything.

“Sure, I'd be cool with that!”, he confirms and Chan beams once again.

The guy really is just sunshine and rainbows.

Pulling out his phone, Chan hands it to Jeongin. 

“Just type it in and ill sent you a text, so you have mine, too!”, he suggests and Jeongin easily complies.  
Seconds after, his phone dings with Chan's message and Jeongin quickly adds the new number to his contacts. 

Chan's profile picture on line is a horrible drawing of something that looks remotely like a kangaroo with too many muscles and Jeongin raises his brow at the older.  
  
Chan sheepishly tugs at his ear.

“Don't ask, it's an insider between me and my friends, since I'm Australian!”, he explains.

It doesn't explain shit to Jeongin, but he lets it slide, since by now, Chan is already one minute past the time the dude from the phone had set as an ultimatum.

“You gotta go!”, he reminds Chan instead while pocketing his phone once more.

“Oh, right!”, Chan nods.  
“Better get running! I still have a client afterwards!”

Turning on his heel, he starts jogging down the street, while his focus stays on Jeongin.

“Bye, Jeongin, we'll talk later, okay!”

“Pedestrian!”, Jeongin only shouts back and bites his lip, when Chan turns back front just in time to avoid body-slamming the woman coming his way. 

He can see Chan bowing in apology five times, before the guy waves him once more and starts sprinting down the street.  
His black bag jumps up and down on his back, and Jeongin hopes very dearly, that Chan doesn't have anything valuable in there.

Only when Chan's figure disappears around the corner of a building, Jeongin starts heading home.  
__________

A deep sigh escapes Minho's chest, when he is finally able to wrap his cold fingers around the warm take-away cup the barista hands him. 

It isn't particularly chilly out today, but for some reason, Minho has been freezing for all of his classes up till now already.  
He also feels weirdly drained and void of any energy, but that's probably, because he didn't sleep that well last night.

Thanking the barista, Minho exits the small coffee-shop again, that is right across the street from his university.  
An incredibly lucrative spot, Minho assumes, with its' proximity to all the coffeine-addicted students, that live off their stress-highs and an average amount of three hours of sleep.

He himself surely has invested half of his allowance in the shop already with how often he uses the short breaks between his classes to get a quick coffee-break in.

Minho crosses the street with slow strides to return to the university.  
His break is almost over and his next class starts in a few minutes – he already feels tired just thinking about it.

Thankfully, at least in this class he will have Hyunjin by his side.

When Minho tries to take his first sip to dispel his fatigue with caffeine, someone suddenly appears right in front of him seemingly out of no where and almost knocks him over.  
It's a good thing, Minho hasn't actually taken his first mouth-full of coffee yet, because in that case he probably would have spit it right back out in shock.

“Oh fuck, sorry mate, I really didn't see you there!”

Before Minho has time to recover from his surprise, let alone add anything, the stranger has already passed him and runs off, further down the street.  
All Minho gets a glimpse of, is the guys blondish hair and his dark clothes, before the figure skids around another corner with way too much momentum, that almost sends him crashing into a lantern post, and disappears.

“Sweet Jesus!”, Minho mumbles under his breath. 

That guy must have been in a huge hurry for him to sprint like that.  
But Minho just shrugs it off. His coffee survived the short run-in, and Minho himself is unharmed as well.  
Maybe the guy was a student who forgot an important assignment at home.

University students can become superhuman if it's about their grades.

Unbothered, Minho finally allows himself to try his coffee.  
It's pleasantly warm, as it trickles down his throat and Minho hums contently despite the bitter taste. 

“Aren't you drinking a little bit too much of that stuff lately?”

This time, Minho unfortunately does have some liquid in his mouth.  
To not actually spit it at his friend, he swallows it down on instinct and almost dies in the attempt to take a breath at the same time.

With his path for oxygen blocked, Minho starts coughing vehemently.  
His nose burns, just like his throat and for a short moment, Minho really can see his life flash past his eyes.

Then strong pats start abusing his back and although they almost break his spine in half and rearrange his ribs, they do help him with freeing his air-ways again.  
When Minho is finally able to take a deep breath again, the pats turn into soothing rubs.

“No need to die because of my criticism!”

Hyunjin's tone sounds almost smug in Minho's ears. 

“Don't be such a dramaqueen, Min!”

Minho croaks out one more cough.

“Bold words from someone who started writing his testament just because he got one math-assignment!”, he then proceeds to tease his best friend in a raspy voice.

Hyunjin stops rubbing circles into Minho's back and pulls his hand away to card it through his bleached bangs in an excessive gesture.

“That assignment took me sacrificing my soul in order to get it done in time!”, he lectures Minho with his pointer finger raised for effect, that then goes over to pointing at Minho's coffee.  
  
“And yet again: Aren't you drinking too much of that stuff?”

“Pretty sure, you never had a soul in the first place!”, Minho simply replies while ignoring Hyunjin's question completely.  
Maybe if he acts like it didn't happen, his friend will forget about it.

But of course this is Hyunjin they are talking about.  
Hyunjin, who still wails about that one mean boy, that tripped in elementary school and ruined a good painting of his by accident.  
Hyunjin isn't one to forget things and neither does he allow them to miss on dramatical flair.

“Isn't this your third one already?”

Frowning, Hyunjin reaches for Minho's cup, but luckily, Minho knows his friend and has seen it coming.  
Quickly he pulls his beverage out of Hyunjin's reach.

“Paws off! So what, if it is?”

It's actually his forth.  
He's had one more this morning before even leaving his and Jeongin's home.  
But Hyunjin doesn't need to know that.

The furrow in Hyunjin's brows only deepens.

“You know, too much caffeine is bad for your health, right?”

Of course, Minho knows.  
Hyunjin has told him at least four times already these past two weeks. 

“It's okay, I'm having breaks in between my doses!”, he assures before taking a big gulp of his now lukewarm coffee.  
It's even more bitter with the decreased temperature, but at least, it will still do it's job of keeping him awake and running.

Hyunjin manages to snatch the cup from him, when he tries to pause his drinking for a second in the favor of breathing and Minho can't help a triumphant grin at Hyunjin's peeved expression, when his friend realizes, that Minho has already nearly emptied the beverage again.

Groaning, Hyunjin slumps his shoulders. It gains him the look of a giant kicked puppy.

“You need to stop doing this, Min!”, he complains. 

His tone is only partly joking but Minho pointedly ignores the serious edge to it. 

“I need it to stay awake!”, he justifies himself, as he reaches for his cup within Hyunjin's grasp to chug it into the closest trashcan a few meters away from them.

Screw the last few droplets! They taste horrible anyways.

Around them, the campus and the sidewalk in front of the university gates starts filling with students, when in the background, the faint ringing of the school-bell becomes audible.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes in exasperation.

“Maybe if you would try to sleep at night, you wouldn't need it to stay awake during the day!”

Minho stays quiet and only starts heading for the school's entrance.

That's kind of his problem. 

Even if he does manage to sleep, he still feels just as drained the next day, as if he hadn't even closed his eyes in the first place.  
But he doesn't dare to tell Hyunjin that. His friend already worries too much anyways.

“I will, I will!”, he assures instead to put Hyunjin's conscience to rest.  
“Just let me drown myself in coffee for today!”

Hyunjin very obviously is not content with that agreement, but nonetheless, his best friend doesn't protest any further, as they make their way to the universities left wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, that was that...
> 
> Also, dont worry to those who are still waiting for some extra Scenes in my other book: i havent forgotten about them and am still working on them. I just suck at writing at the Moment! Like, you know, more so that the usual. It just takes Ages for me to find proper words.  
> I'm really soreey, please be Patient with me!
> 
> Stay save!


	4. Fourths (dont ad me because of the chapter-names, im just writing down crap because i suck at naming things)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and Depression, my friends! Angst and Depression!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i continue writing this, because i cant come up with shit for the extra Scenes of my other book?  
> Maybe...

When Minho gets home in the early evening, he can swear, gravity has increased on him and is making his every step even more exhausting. 

Somehow, despite him having drunk a fifth cup of coffee just before his last class started, Minho is about ready to pass out and the coldness holding his body hostage hasn't faded yet either.

Groaning, he lets his bag drop onto the couch before he makes a bee-line for the kitchen.  
  
A part of him urges him to make himself another coffee, but Hyunjin's judging eyes haunt him even here, within his own apartment, and therefore, Minho dutifully picks up a bigger mug and sets up the water kettle before pulling one of their last teebags out of the kitchen-shelf.

He really needs to get new ones the next time he goes grocery shopping.  
Normally, that is Jongwoo's job, since the older hates coffee with a certain passion. 

Hated.

With sticky tendrils, the heavy weight of grief envelopes Minho, settles on his shoulders like a clingy imposter, that makes moving all the more difficult.

 _“How can you drink that stuff?”_ , Minho can almost hear Jongwoo say.  
  
_“It's so bitter! Why would anyone voluntarily gulp down something this nasty?”_

“It's not that bad!”, Minho protests into the silence of the kitchen. 

_“Look at me and tell me again, that you really think, this tastes good!”_ , sounds Jongwoos voice in his head again, the words the very same as every time they had had this argument.

Which was a lot of times. 

But Minho now misses those friendly banters more than anything.  
  
Silence is so much worse than any annoying argument could ever be.

The water kettle's whistles pull Minho out of the warm world he had been in in his imagination.  
Sends him back into the cold darkness of reality.  
  
A reality, in which Jongwoo is long gone.

Carefully to not spill any of the boiling water with his shaking hands, Minho pours himself a bit.

The warmth of the mug's porcelain snuggles into his icy palms and Minho huffs a sigh of comfort.  
  
Blowing at the hot beverage, he starts wandering through the apartment to check Jeongin's room, but just like he had predicted, it is empty. 

It's no wonder, since Jeongin's evening classes start in about an hour and Minho is sure, that his younger brother has gone out to meet up with Seungmin beforehand, like the both of them do most of the time.

Trailing back into the kitchen, Minho leans against the counter and takes the first few sips of his tea.  
  
It tastes bland, but the simple reminder, that Jongwoo loved this sort, makes drinking it a bittersweet experience for Minho.  
Like a part of his older brother is still here with him.

He still needs to visit the graveyard though.

Although with the tea, the warmth returns into his limbs little by little, Minho's energy doesn't seem to plan on coming back any time soon.  
  
He still feels just as drained as when he had come home before and if his body feels heavy, Minho's heart is a fucking boulder in his chest.

But he has to visit Jongwoo.  
  
There is no way past it! It's the least, his brother deserves!

Determinedly, Minho throws back the remaining half of the still steaming tea without regard for his throat or tongue. 

The hot liquid burns him from the inside and makes his entire mouth feel sore, but Minho doesn't have any more time to spent. 

Suddenly, he feels very eager to get out of the silence of the apartment and to the cemetery.  
To Jongwoo. 

Fetching his wallet and phone out of his schoolbag, Minho pockets them and goes to put his shoes back on.  
His jacket he had never taken off in the first place thanks to his freezing.

Since Minho can already feel the cold re-burying it's claws within his bones, he pulls a scarf around his neck as well for good measure, before he leaves the apartment and starts heading for the cemetery with long steps.

The impending evening is already noticeable despite it only being a little after five o'clock.  
  
Give it half an hour more and the streets around here will be packed with cars of desperate workers, that want nothing more but to get home to wash off the sweat of a painfully long day.

Minho himself doesn't feel like showering.  
  
He doesn't feel like anything to be honest, but the obsessive pull inside him, that drags him towards the graveyard like a dog on the leash forbids him from just mellowing in self-pity at home.

The cloudy sky is still as gray as it had been this morning, when Minho finally reaches the entrance of the cemetery, where someone is currently busy with tightening a few of the gate's screws.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee!”, Minho greets politely, when he passes the man. 

After over four weeks of daily visits, he is familiar with the graveyard's personnel and Lee Minhyuk is the most reliable gardener here.  
Who also takes over most of every other possible task, that happens to be in need of care around the yard.

“Ah, evening, Minho!”, the man replies with a friendly smile. 

Nonetheless, he doesn't leave his spot on the ground.

“What brings you here all alone? Jeongin already brought fresh flowers for today, didn't he?”

Ah, so Jeongin at least kept his promise!  
  
The knowledge already makes Minho's chest feel a little lighter.

“True, but I myself haven't visited my brother yet today!”, he gives back. 

His feet itch to get to Jongs' grave already, to not keep the older waiting any longer.  
But Jongwoo valued manners a lot and so, Minho keeps his ground to finish his conversation.

Mr. Lee frowns.

“Couldn't that have waited until tomorrow?”, he asks. 

Concern dances in the shadows of his voice.

“You look tired. I'm sure, Jongwoo wouldn't have wanted for you to exhaust yourself either!”

There is bile somewhere in Minho's throat.  
He swallows heavily before forcing his heavy lips into a fake smile.

“Visiting my brother isn't exhausting, Mr. Lee!”

The gardener looks like he wants to say more, but apparently decides against it after taking in the silent warning lingering in Minho's words.  
  
He only nods in reply.

“Have a nice evening then!”, he eventually adds gently.  
  
“Do me a favor and rest yourself well after this, alright? The bags under your eyes seem to grow with every time I meet you here!”

“I will, don't worry!”, Minho assures, despite knowing, that this night too, he will be lying awake again, kept up by the aching loneliness being the only thing filling the hole in his chest.  
  
“School just took a lot from me these past two weeks.”

Another lie.  
  
Minho has been slacking off at school.  
Not too noticeably but enough, that he has no idea, what they are currently doing in their classes. 

Dance, he doesn't even want to think about.  


His brain feels like a heavy block of soft mush most of the time, making it nearly impossible to focus longer on something than a few minutes at best.

Hyunjin has hit him at least ten times today for spacing out.  
And that was only one class, since they don't share that many with his friend minoring in photography and Minho in business.

“See you another day, Mr. Lee!”, Minho eventually remembers to add, before he gives in to the tug in his guts and allows himself to finally reach Jongwoo's grave.

It still looks as dead and hopeless as the last time Minho has been here.  
  
He really planted lots of beautiful flowers on the beet, but not even with all the willpower in the world, Minho would be able to make them bloom in the early stages of fall.

The only thing giving the grave a bit of life and color are the two bouquets placed to either side of Jongwoo's picture.

Two bouquets?

Minho's tired mind needs a moment to catch up to that information, but finally in clicks and Minho frowns. 

Why are there two bouquets?  
  
He only gave Jeongin enough money for one and he is more than just sure, that the younger wouldn't spent his own money on an extra bouquet.  
Especially not the very same one a second time.

Thoughtfully he crouches down to drag his fingers over the flower's petals.  
  
They are both still fresh. 

Who else would buy Jongwoo flowers? 

Minho is pretty sure, he knows all of his older brother's friends.  
  
There weren't many in the first place, and none of them live anywhere near here.  
Most of them they got to know back in America and left them there as well.

Besides, how could they possibly know the special order Minho has created for his brother?

It's all very strange, but since Minho's brain is not exactly helpful in it's current state, he decides to cut the brooding short for now and simply ask Jeongin when he gets back home.

For now, he still has some things to talk with Jongwoo about.

His knees start to ache in his crouched position, but Minho ignores it.

“Hey Jongs!”, he starts off. 

His voice sounds weirdly flat and empty as it echoes over the abandoned graveyard.

“Sorry, I'm so late today. I had classes all up until shortly before, so I was unable to come.”

Minho proceeds to tell the dark tombstone in front of him about his day, like he always did with Jongwoo.  
The older claimed, it helped to distract him from his pain. 

Minho sincerely hopes, Jongwoo at least isn't in pain anymore now, but old habits die hard.

Eventually, the shadows grow darker around Minho and he starts shivering in the chilly breeze of fall. 

Even with his jacket and scarf, the cold air seems to manage to creep underneath his clothes and force his skin into goosebumps.

But Minho can't go home yet.  
He's only been here for a little over forty minutes. Not even an hour.

He can't leave Jongwoo yet.

“Jeez, it's really freezing out tonight!”, he mumbles just to fill the silence somehow, that has been spreading over him and Jongwoo's grave ever since Minho had finished his report about his day.

Normally, his brother would fill that gap with questions, but now it stays eerily quiet.

Minho tries again, despite his better knowledge.

“I've been feeling cold a lot lately!”, he admits with his eyes set on Jongwoo's picture, that is getting less and less visible in the twilight.  
“Somehow, I just can't seem to get warm. Maybe I'm getting sick.”

The whispers of the wind are the only answer he gets in return.

When the tips of his fingers are about to go numb from the cold and the clock strikes half past six, Minho finally gets up with aching knees and bids his goodbyes to Jongwoo to head back home.  
__________

Jeongin is exhausted, when he finally waves off Seungmin to enter his own street. 

The sky is a deep anthracite, still hung with clouds that block the moon and the stars from shining down on the city.  
Although stars are barely visible here anyways, thanks to all the artificial lights of civilization.

Evening classes had been boring as hell and more than ones, Jeongin had found his eyes drooping, but thankfully, Seungmin had been interested enough to take notes. 

Or at least, that's what Jeongin hopes, his scribbles were.  
  
Could be literally as well. 

One never knows with Seungmin's handwriting, that resembles the one of an overexcited toddler with ADHD and a love for minimalism to Jeongin.  
  
He seriously sometimes only sees lines where Seungmin reads proper sentences with how small his friend makes his letters.

His keys clink against each other, as he takes them out to unlock the front door of his and Minho's apartment. 

Although Minho should be long home by now, Jeongin is greeted by darkness.  
It seems to creep up his arms as a bad premonition, only to pierce his clothes with it's claws and hold him with its' relentless grip.

Carefully, Jeongin slips inside and closes the door behind him, before he switches on the lights in the hallway.  
The sudden brightness doesn't dispel the resigned fear in his heart however.

“I'm home!”, he calls out, because maybe – just maybe – Minho is in the kitchen, cooking something like he used to in earlier days.

But there is no delicious smell coating the air and no sounds beside the low but steady babble of some talk-show echoing through the rooms.

“Min?”

Toeing his shoes off, Jeongin rids himself of his jacket as well, before he shoulders his schoolbag once more and slowly trails into the living room.  
Here, too, all lights are switched off. 

The running tv is the only source of light, that illuminates the dark figure of his brother on the couch and Jeongin can practically feel the fear starting to grow stronger inside his chest. 

A part of him knows, yet he still hopes, wishes for him to be wrong although he knows, he's not.

It has been a few days since the last episode.  
Minho was better, wasn't he?

But when Jeongin's gaze falls on his brother's face, he knows exactly, that this evening is like the many others he has suffered through already.

“Min, I'm home!”, he tries again, but Minho only blinks at him with eyes, that look more dead than alive.

“Jeongin!”, he eventually mumbles out. 

His words seem to drag themselves longer than the ones of normal people.  
  
As if his brain needs time to process, where the sentences are supposed to lead to, since he himself has forgotten it.

“I didn't cook dinner.”

Jeongin shuffles a little closer.

“That's okay, I already ate something!”, he lies to not make Minho feel even worse. 

His appetite is gone anyways.

“How was your afternoon?”, he adds to get Minho to talk. 

Maybe he can get his brother out of this floating state he seems to be in.

“I was at the graveyard!”

Of course.

Why did Jeongin ask anyways?  
Its always the same after all.  
Minho always visits the graveyard at least once per day.

There is something itching inside of Jeongin, but he doesn't know how to reach it to ease it.  
It just stays in the back of his conscience and makes him restless.

“What are you watching?”, he asks to distract himself.

Minho's head rolls back to look at the screen of the tv.

“I'm not watching that non-sense!”, he huffs. 

His nose-scrunch is so familiar, that it punches Jeongin like a hard jab to the left side of his rib-cage. 

“It just was too silent in here!”

Ah, it's the silence again. 

“We could listen to some music!”, Jeongin carefully suggests. "You could dance...

Minho's reaction is instant and the most vehement he has shown until now.

“No!”

His eyes are still empty holes in his shell, but nonetheless, they manage to create a sharpness that cuts Jeongin like a knife.

“I'm not gonna dance! Go to bed, Jeongin!”

Jeongin fiddles with the ring on his right hand. 

Before, they often used to sing at night, preferably while cooking or just for the fun of it.  
And Minho always loved to dance along to whatever music was playing.   
But since Jongwoo's voice isn't there anymore to lead their songs, Minho has stopped listening to any kind of melody, let alone move along to it.

Even though he used to love it so much.  


“But- “, he tries one more time, but gets interrupted by his brother.

This time, Minho's voice is less hostile, but his words hit Jeongin nonetheless.

“Jeongin, leave me alone, alright?”

Something within Jeongin flares up, like a destructive lightning ready to scorch out the pain in his heart, and he curls his hands into fists, but the small 'please' Minho adds is like a heavy blanket that kills off any flame possibly trying to burn up inside of him.

It leaves him feeling so disgustingly powerless that Jeongin wants to throw up.  
But since his stomach is empty, he only lets his shoulders slump. 

What is he trying for anyway.

And he thought, Minho was doing better, was fighting against his villain.  
Apparently, his brother has lost this level and now needs to recharge his character.  
Again.

Jeongin should stop with the gaming metaphor though. 

Life isn't a game. Games are fun.  
Reality isn't.

“Okay!”, Jeongin mumbles. 

His quiet voice is barely audible over the monotone chatter of the tv, so Jeongin raises it a bit.

“Good night, Min!”

Minho doesn't even react but only keeps staring at the flickering screen with empty eyes and a sullen expression, as if Jeongin isn't even there anymore, now that he has stopped arguing.

After a few moments of silence, Jeongin gives it up and turns away to head for his own room.

It's pointless trying to talk to Minho when he is like this.  
Caught up in his memories and the wish to turn back time.

Jeongin wants to slam his door shut behind him, when he enters his room, but he knows it won't get Minho out of his state either and will only disturb their neighbors.  
So despite his itching fingertips, Jeongin forces himself to pull his door close gently.

The soft click seems to rob him off his last bits of willpower. 

Dragging himself across the room, Jeongin lets his bag drop to the floor and himself fall down onto his bead head first. 

His face meets the soft cushions and dyes his vision black and Jeongin almost enjoys the darkness he finds himself in. 

Sometimes, he wishes, he could sleep forever and be woken up, when Minho is finally back to being his older brother. 

And maybe when his midterms are done and over with.  
That surely would be an awfully convenient plus.

But more than anything, Jeongin is just so damn tired of not knowing the level Minho is playing on at the moment. 

Because for some reason, it always seems to switch.  
  
Like, yesterday, it seemed as if his brother had advanced, whereas today, Minho has been booted down at least four levels.  
Maybe even five!

Jeongin simply doesn't get it and the fact that he is so tired, only encourages his brain to loose track of his very own gaming metaphor, which he originally wanted to drop anyways.

He releases a long-drawn groan, just because he can.  
And because it feels relieving to at least allow himself to voice his current emotional state via unsophisticated noises if he can't do it through screaming anyways. 

The chime of his phone calls for his attention though. 

Jeongin has half the heart to just ignore it, but the possibility of it being Seungmin, who has already completed their homework and now wants to help him out, is definitely small but never zero, and so, Jeongin groans one last time, before he pushes himself up to fish his phone out of his schoolbag.

It's not Seungmin.

Chan really kept his promise of texting him. 

Jeongin can't help the small smile sneaking onto his lips despite his foul mood.

When he opens the chat, his smile turns into a giggle at the sight of Chan's profile picture. 

Where once was the horrible kangaroo-drawing, now proudly boasts a new picture. 

This time, it actually contains Chan's face and the older boy looks anything but delighted with the ridiculous fake-ears on his head and the smug grin of another person in the background of the picture.

Jeongin assumes, the photo is a result of Chan being late for work today.  
Apparently, he has managed to get out of his coffee-penalty by choosing the lesser evil.

Still grinning, Jeongin quickly reads through Chan's message.

_Did you get home safely?_

Rolling his eyes at the display, Jeongin's grin widens.

Chan sounds like a concerned mother, not even one day after their first meeting.  
  
He tells the older as much via text.

Chan answers almost immediately.

_I'm a proud single-father of three and a half problem-children and part-time of one small genius!  
Careful, or you will get adopted!_

Somehow, the message warms Joengin's heart.  
Another one pops up.

_Lix would love you!_

Jeongin frowns. That's a new name!

 _Who's Lix?_ , he asks back and the typing on the other end of the line resumes.

 _Trouble-child number one: My cousin Felix from Australia.  
He goes to university here and basically lives with me!  
I could introduce the two of you at some point, if you want._

That's interesting!  
  
Jeongin still faintly remembers Jongwoo's friends from abroad and they were all pretty chill.  
If this Felix-guy is anything like that, Jeongin is sure, they would get along well.

 _Although I have some objections with the adoption-topic, I wouldn't mind meeting him!_ , he writes and Chan's reply comes instantly.

_Wanna join me and him for lunch on Friday then?  
My second problem-child probably will be with us, too, but he's a friendly guy as well as long as you don't have to be responsible for him and his chaos!_

It takes Jeongin a moment to think the suggestion over. 

He still doesn't know Chan and neither does he know the dude's friends.  
What if they are 'the wrong people' to be around?

Then again, Jeongin sincerely doubts, that people around Chan can be 'wrong'. 

His decision comes as a quick spark, that moves his fingers to type out his answer without him even really realizing it.

_Sure, I'd love to! Text me the time and place!_

He was the one, who wanted to socialize more after all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a dark chapter and it certainly wont be the last one, but the following ones will be a Little lighter again.  
> I hope, you liked it despite the sadness!
> 
> About my other book: ahhhh i swear im still working on it! I added two pages to my next Scene yesterday, but it always take me forever because even though i already have all of it plannes out in my Hand, i just can't seem to find the words!
> 
> Its unbelievably frustrating, but i promise, i Keep working on it!
> 
> Stay save, everyone!;)


	5. Explanation to my adjustments!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How i will continue this story.

Hey there!:)  
  
So, i know its been quite some time, but i have finally come to a decision, about what i am going to do with this story of mine.  
Until now, it's been on hold because it used to be a woochan fic and because the woojin-case still hasn't cleared up, i dont feel too comfortable writing about him anymore. His name will remain in my first work, since that character is based on someone i used to see in kim woojin, but i distance it from the real deal as an oc with the same name.  
i understand, if many people dont want to read that story because of that and i accept your decision. please do the same with mine.  
  
Anyways, this story however, is still in progress and so i decided to switch woojin out for Minho, who didn't have that big of a role yet. It will probably change the flow of the story a bit, since their characters differ, but i think, i can make it work.  
  
To anyone still reading this and waiting for updates:  
1\. i am sorry, it took me so long  
2\. thank you so much for your support  
3\. for further developments: i suggest, your read the first four chapters again to understand, what i changed, but of course, you dont have to. i will add a short description of what i changed, so you can just continue reading from here, if you like to.;)  
  
To anyone new:  
thank you for clicking on my story, i hope yall enjoy it!:)  
  
About the changes:  
1\. te main ship is not woochan anymore, but Minchan (MinhoxChan)  
2\. i cut out other ships. that doesnt mean, there wont be any, im just not promising anything  
3\. Minho's best friend is Hyunjin  
4\. Jeongin's best friend is Seungmin, who knows Chan, but isn't as close with him as Lix, Jisung and Changbin are  
5\. Minho hasn't stopped singing but dancing. Also, he is a dance major who minors in business, while Hyunjin minors in photography  
  
I think, that should be about it. I edited all the chapters, but if you find a mistake, feel free to point it out to me, so i can correct it!  
  
Now, there are further updates to come. I can't promise a proper update schedule because of my studies, but i promise to do my best in finishing the next chapter soon!:)  
  
Stay save, everyone! And thank you for your support!


	6. Fifths (this doesn't make any sense)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Seungmin?"  
> Now Chan sounds very, very small. Almost scared.  
> That‘s new!
> 
> Jeongin frowns.
> 
> "Hello, Channie!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what, everyone!;) 
> 
> I finally managed an update!!!! Yeyyyyy!!
> 
> Okay, I'm sorry for how long it took me. Things were kinda crazy these last few months end then the whole thing with Woojin...  
> Anyways, i will try to update more regularly again, to get to the point of this story eventually.
> 
> i hope you enjoy the chapter!:)

On Friday, Jeongin is up even before he would have to be to be punctual for school.  
  
He had always been able to wake up just at the right time without an alarm clock, and Minho used to regularly tell him, how inhumanly creepy that was.  
  
Now, Minho doesn't even get out of bed early enough to sent Jeongin off.  
  
The fact hurts, despite Jeongin knowing, that he is old enough to not kiss his older brother goodbye every time he leaves the house.  
Especially, since on those mornings Minho didn't use to be anywhere near conscious anyways, so his mumbled “Have a nice day!” could very well have been a “Fuck off, so I can go back to sleep!” just as well.  
  
But nowadays, Jeongin would give his pinky for even just the second version.  
He wouldn't even mind, if Minho would destroy his neatly styled hair with a ruffling hand.  
  
But Minho does neither, doesn't even show up in the doorframe of his room, when Jeongin rushes through their apartment left and right to get ready.  
  
It does hurt and Jeongin can't help the bitter taste in his mouth.  
Nonetheless, he swallows it down with a small bowl of cereal.  
  
Minho is probably too tired to get up right now. After all, his brother had had dance classes yesterday evening like every Thursday.  
  
Jeongin is just glad, that Minho actually seemed better yesterday and not his undead self from Wendnesday-night.  
He even apologized to Jeongin for being so harsh to him and Jeongin – of course – brushed it off like always.  
  
It's not the first apology he ever received from Minho because of his brothers episodes.  
And he waves them off every singe time because, if he tells Minho, how much the older's husky behavior actually hurts him sometimes, his brother would only feel worse.  
  
And Jeongin doesn't want that.  
  
So, instead of waking Minho, he simply dumps his empty dishes in the sink and goes to brush his teeth, before the dark thoughts in his head become too strong.  
  
After all, he has something else to focus on.  
  
A small smile creeps on his face, when he checks the message Chan has sent him, one last time to memorize the name of the Cafe they will meet up in.  
  
Today, Jeongin will finally meet Felix and Jisung, Chan's two 'troublechildren', how he calls them despite the fact, that they apparently are both one year older than Jeongin.  
  
But Jeongin has already gotten used to Chan's fatherly tendencies, even after just two days of texting with the older.  
  
And if Jeongin is honest, the warmth that tingles along with every incoming message from Chan, asking how he is doing, is something he can't find himself minding.  
  
The soft clicking of the door behind him is the only thing that sends Jeongin off.  
  
He skips down the stairs of their apartment block, until finally, fresh air surrounds him.  
It's a nice day, with rather mild temperatures and the blue sky only disrupted by a few stray clouds.  
  
Jeongin takes a moment to inhale deeply.  
  
The air tastes like wet foliage, mixed with the sharp scent of gas from the main street not too far away.  
It's an interesting combination, but by now – after three years of living here, Jeongin has somehow grown fond of it.  
  
It is the only thing that greets him with consistency while everything else seems wrapped in the fragility of impermanence.  
  
Since he is still early, Jeongin decides to walk to school instead of taking the bus.  
  
It'll take him about twenty minutes, fifteen minutes more than by bus and Seungmin will probably nag him for not informing him, when they meet at school, but Jeongin doesn't feel ready to face the crowd yet, that will inevitably surround him, if he uses public transport.  
  
Instead, he heads off into the direction of the main road.  
  
Sun-rays brush his face from time to time, when they aren't blocked by houses or one of the few trees that line the street.  
And with their warmth, memories rise up within Jeongin.  
  
Jongwoo had loved such weather. Spring weather.  
  
_'It's when the earth smiles!'_ , he had told Jeongin once, when they had been out for a walk together in the hospital-park.  
Or rather, Jeongin had walked.  
  
Jongwoo had been seated in one of the hospital's wheelchairs and let himself be pushed by Jeongin, because he had already been too weak for any more physical labor that went 'above taking a shit', how he himself had phrased it.  
To make Jeongin laugh of course, how he had always tried to do until the very end. Even when he himself got too sick to laugh along.  
  
Their walk had been back in spring, Jongwoo's favorite season.  
  
_'Spring is the season of birth and life!'_ , he used to tell Jeongin and Minho.  
  
A rather poetic comparison, like it was common for him.  
After all, Jongwoo had spent the short span of his life with music, literature and poetry. Anything, that bordered on art in any form, he had been interested in.  
  
When Jeongin reaches the main road, he swerves to the left and keeps walking alongside it.  
  
The street is filled with vehicles of all forms. Cars, Taxis, Buses.  
The entire city seems on it's way to work and when a bus passes Jeongin, that is filled to the brim with students, Jeongin sents his silent gratitude back to his past self for deciding to walk for today.  
  
To drown out the noise of the main road, he pulls his headphones from his pocket.  
  
The cables have turned into an undefinable ball of mayhem, like they always do.  
Somehow, despite cursing himself every single time he shoves his headphones away without further care, Jeongin doesn't seem to possess an ability to learn regarding this matter.  
  
The damage is done again now anyways though.  
  
“This time, I'll wind them up properly!”, Jeongin mumbles to himself as he starts unraveling the mess without halting his steps.  
Upcoming passerbies can watch his ass until he is able drown himself in music for at least a few minutes, before his teachers will torture him with advances mathematics and this world's history of the dead.  
  
Finally, the headphones give in to his desperate prying fingers and Jeongin is able to find the end to plug it in.  
  
When music fills his ears instead of the noise of the rest of the world, Jeongin starts to hum along silently, while he resumes his thoughts from before.  
  
It's a song, Jongwoo loved, an orchestra version of a pop song.  
'Tear', it is called.  
  
A fitting name, if Jeongin is honest. Jongwoo used to cry along to it rather often, when he was especially emotional because of his medication.  
  
Or the heavy doom of impeding death, that always used to sit on his shoulders.  
  
Actually, now that Jeongin thinks about it, he notices the irony in Jongwoo's story. The cruel joke reality played on him.  
  
His brother loved spring, the season of life in his words.  
And yet, it was the season, Jongwoo began to die.  
  
He had been dying for quite a while already, but in April, his end became final, when he made the decision to drop the medication and end his treatments.  
  
And not in fall, the season of death and endings in Jongwoo's words, had Jeongin's brother passed.  
But in the heat of summer, while Jeongin's classmates had spent the days at the riverside and in ice cafes, laughing and having the time of their lives – while Jonwoo's time had run out once and for all.  
  
Jeongin hadn't cried that day.  
Neither had Minho, when they had sent their brother's cachectic body off.  
  
Only a week later at the funeral, the both of them had sobbed in each others arms, when the realization had finally settled in, that Jongwoo wouldn't return again.  
  
That his long and painful journey had finally ended.  
  
Just like the older had wanted when he had made his decision pro death and against an uncertain future.  
  
His chances of survival had never been that high to begin with after all.  
Jongwoo's form of cancer had been an aggressive one, that in the end had managed to drain him for all he had had.  
  
Jeongin had always understood his brother's decision.  
He also had accepted it ever since Jongwoo had voiced it for the very first time.  
  
A part of him, that he would like to smother in the darkest parts of his mind to never let it out again, had even been relieved.  
Relieved, that there was a temporal end set to all of this. That this wouldn't go on indifferently, that the daily hospital-visits would stop at some point.  
  
Jeongin had never wanted for his brother to die and he still missed him.  
  
Even now, while listening to Jongwoo's favorite song, Jeongin couldn't stop the tears from brimming his eyes, as his heart ached.  
  
But a part of him had been glad, when his brother had made his decision.  
  
A part of him had let out the breath he had been holding all the time, when it had finally been over.  
  
Only that it hadn't been over.  
  
With Jongwoo's death, it had only just started.  
Because that had been, when Minho had started crashing, had started loosing his game.  
  
  
The big crossing with it's streetlights comes into view.  
  
Jeongin shortly checks the time on his phone, only to find out, that it's only quarter to seven – perfectly enough time to meet up with Seungmin before classes start.  
  
His friend hadn't been at school yesterday because of a dentist appointment – although Jeongin really has no idea, what his friend even goes to the dentist for, since Seungmin brushes his teeth at least five times a day.  
  
Maybe he gets high on the doctor's praise or something.  
  
Anyways, since Seungmin had missed all their classes yesterday, Jeongin had to survive them all on his own.  
And it was a close call, alright!  
  
Mrs. Ahn, their literature teacher had almost managed to wipe him out with her monologue about classic works of English literature.  
  
Jeongin has read Romeo and Juliet thanks to Jongwoo's nagging.  
And despite his brother's love for authors like Shakespeare and Oscar Wild, Jeongin still thought it had sucked ass.  
  
How stupid did one person have to be to kill themselves instead of checking for their lover's heartbeat first?  
Seriously, common sense before dramatic exit!  
  
Jeongin passes the crossing at the streetlight there.  
  
By now, his music has switched to happier melodies, but he is okay with that.  
It keeps him from overthinking shit, that will only make him sad and the dark clouds in his head grow.  
  
For example, the memory of how he and Minho had sat together in the armchair of Jongwoo's hospital room to work through the damn book for their older brother, although they had both agreed on the fact, that the storyline was old, overused and unrealistic.  
  
Minho had let the book drop to the floor afterwards – an action Jongwoo thankfully hadn't been able to see thanks to him being asleep in his bed already, because otherwise, the older surely would have had an aneurysm – and had groaned about how he had wasted two hours of his life on something he would never need again.  
  
Jeongin had simply picked up the book again to place it on the little table beside them – for Jongwoo – and filed this experience under 'things he didn't need to repeat'.  
  
“You're a dramaqueen!”, he had told Minho back then.  
“I think, Hyunjin has a bad influence on you!”  
  
His brother had taken him into a chokehold for his words before going over to cuddle Jeongin.  
  
It had been hot and uncomfortable back then with Jeongin complaining about the lack of space and half of Minho's weight on his right thigh.  
But now, he wished he could turn back time.  
At least it had been less lonely.  
  
  
When the coffee-shop across the street from their school comes into sight, Jeongin pulls his headphones out to look for Seungmin.  
Normally, his best friend waits for him in front of the school-gates.  
  
Just like predicted, Seungmin is standing right in front of the entrance.  
  
Like always, his school uniform is neat, just like his fluffy hair.  
With the sun painting the brown strands almost golden, Jeongin can't help himself to admire his friend's resemblance with a puppy.  
A Labrador or a Golden Retriever would be fitting, if he has to define it further.  
  
The puppy, however, seems rather grumpy despite his proper looks, as he spots Jeongin on his way towards him.  
  
Seungmin's nose is scrunched up, when Jeongin comes to a halt right in front of him.  
  
“You should have told me, you were walking today!”, he nags without greeting.  
“I would have come along! The bus ride was absolutely disastrous!”  
  
Jeongin can't help a grin.  
  
“Good morning to you, too, how was your day yesterday?”, he pointedly ignores Seungmin's question.  
  
His friend only huffs but pulls him along onto the school's campus nonetheless.  
  
They still have to get to the other side, that is meant for highschoolers like them. The campus right behind the entrance is for the university students, and until next year, neither Seungmin nor Jeongin will be one of those.  
  
“My day was boring!”, Seungmin eventually replies, when he deems Jeongin worth of his attention again.  
“I should have gone to school instead! That would have been more interesting than waiting at home for my dentist appointment, only for them to tell me that everything's fine anyways!”  
  
Jeongin snorts, as he quickly shoves his – again not winded up – headphones back into his pocket.  
  
“It's not like this isn't the umpteenth time your dentist has told you that!”  
  
What is Seungmin expecting? For even just one single bacteria to survive his fervent scrubbing, that almost looks violent to Jeongin whenever he stays over at Seungmin's place?  
  
“Being careful is not a sin!”, Seungmin bites back, with a grin white as snow.  
Seriously, Jeongin has never seen teeth as perfect as Seungmin's.  
  
“Ahh, my eyes!”, he pretends to be blinded by his friend's smile and Seungmin punches his arm in return.  
  
They reach the entrance to the big school building on their half of the campus and Jeongin holds the door open for Seungmin to pass through, before he follows.  
  
Inside, the noise is a good few notches louder, and Jeongin quickly catches up to his friend again, to be able to understand Seungmin's next few words.  
  
“What about you? Did I miss anything yesterday?”  
  
Jeongin waits, until they have passed the noisy hallway and have reached a part of the school that's more deserted, before he answers.  
  
“Nah, just boring only school with it's boring old lessons!”  
  
“School's important!”, Seungmin defends, but Jeongin doesn't even bother to argue with him about that.  
They have had this discussion at least a hundred times already.  
  
Jeongin knows, how important school is. It doesn't change the fact though, that some subjects are still boring as hell.  
  
Eventually, they reach their classroom for Maths and settle down on two seats further to the back of the room.  
  
Seungmin rather sits in the front to be able to pay better attention, but he knows of Jeongin's unease with so many eyes in his back, so they compromised with the farther middle of the room.  
It's something, Jeongin will always be thankful for to Seungmin.  
  
“Wanna come over for some games later?”, Seungmin asks, as they both pull out their books.  
The classroom is still rather empty with there still being about ten minutes, until classes start.  
  
Jeongin almost agrees, when he remembers his plans for today.  
  
“Sorry Seung, I'm meeting up with some friends after school!”  
  
Seungmin frowns in confusion.  
  
“You have friends other than me?”  
  
Jeongin throws his eraser at his friend and Seungmin giggles in glee, when he misses.  
  
“I do!”, Jeongin grumbles, as he retrieves his thrown item from the floor.  
“In fact, I made them Wendnesday afternoon, if you wanna know it!”  
  
Seungmin's eyes twinkle with curiosity.  
  
“Do tell!”, he ushers and Jeongin relents.  
  
He tells him about the flowers, about Chan, about their coffee-date and about how he will meet the other and his two friends today for another coffee, not too far away from campus.  
  
“So yeah, that's how I made a new friend!”, Jeongin finally ends before casting a glance at Seungmin, who hasn't said a word as of yet.  
He frowns.  
  
“Seung, are you okay?”  
  
Seungmin is unusually red in the face and Jeongin is unsure, whether it is from amusement or anger.  
But then again, why should his friend be angry?  
  
“That fucker!”, Seungmin suddenly barks out and Jeongin flinches in surprise.  
  
“Pardon?”, he asks, because he has absolutely no idea what else he is supposed to say to that.  
  
Seungmin huffs a laugh, that sounds rather threatening.  
It's scary.  
  
Jeongin has seen Seungmin angry, and he does have to admit, that even his friend's puppy-like appearance doesn't make that any less frightening.  
  
“I know your friend!”, is all Seungmin replies.  
“Would you please take me along to your coffee-date today?”  
  
Jeongin is stunned for a second.  
This has taken a turn he hasn't seen coming in the least, but then again, he can't say that he minds the idea.  
He had already been nervous anyways about meeting so many new people, even if it had been accompanied by excitement.  
  
“Sure, i'll ask!”, he shrugs.  
  
Seungmin gives him a sweet smile as Jeongin pulls out his cellphone to text Chan.  
  
“Thank you, Innie!”  
  
His tone let's a shudder run down Jeongin's spine.  
__________  
  
Grumbling, Jeongin zips his schoolbag shut, ready to finally leave this hellhole of a place behind for the weekend.  
  
School today had been horrible.  
Maths in particular had been a disaster.  
  
Because of course, Jeongin had NOT remembered to finish his incomplete homework, that he had abandoned on Tuesday in favor of cooking with Minho.  
  
And of course, Mr. Park had noticed immediately.  
Jeongin is just glad, that his teacher had mercy on him and therefore, instead of detention, only gave a warning.  
But Jeongin knows, he won't be this lucky, if he lets it happen a second time.  
  
“Since when do you not finish your assignments?”  
  
Seungmin is already ready to go with his backpack strapped on fully, since he never does things only halfway.  
Jeongin on the other hand, only throws his bag over his right shoulder, like always.  
  
“Calculus is hard, okay?”, he defends himself.  
  
It's a weak excuse, since difficulty has never stopped him before from finishing his schoolwork, but he doesn't want to tell Seungmin the real reason.  
Maybe because he is scared of his best friend barging into their apartment and throwing Minho out of bed to lecture him.  
  
Jeongin definitely doesn't want that to happen.  
  
Minho and Seungmin never got along that well.  
They tolerate each other at best and bicker like an old, divorced couple at worst.  
Sometimes, it's humoring, but Jeongin isn't sure, whether Minho would have the patience for that at the moment.  
  
Seungmin bestows him with a rather doubtful look but seems to realize, that he should drop the topic.  
Instead, he puts on a smile that borders the line to fake.  
  
“Anyways, did your friend text you back?”  
  
Jeongin frowns shortly but chooses not to comment on Seungmin's attitude.  
As he checks his phone, a new message-notification is decorating the lockscreen.  
  
_'Sure, the more the merrier!;)'_ , Chan had answered to Jeongin's question, whether he could bring a friend with him.  
Jeongin smiles lightly.  
  
“He said, it's fine!”, he informs Seungmin, who nods in satisfaction.  
  
“Good, then let's get going or we will be late!”  
  
Jeongin follows him out the door with a grin as he pockets his phone again.  
  
“I have a feeling, we could be as late as we wanted and still be more on time than he will be!”, he admits in memory of his conversation with Chan, about whether the older was late often.  
“I have a feeling, Chan is not the most punctual dude!”  
  
Seungmin heaves out a very resigned sounding sigh.  
  
“I wish I wouldn't know this,”, he mumbles. “but unfortunately you are perfectly correct!”  
__________  
  
True to Jeongin's word, when he and Seungmin arrive at the cafe they all agreed on meeting up at, there still isn't a single sign of Chan.  
Despite it already being ten minutes after the set time.  
  
“Told you, we wouldn't have to hurry!”  
  
Determinedly, Jeongin pulls Seungmin over towards a bigger table in the far back of the cafe. It's structured like a booth and therefore allows Jeongin to stay hidden from most of the other customers.  
Seungmin doesn't protest.  
  
They settle down and order some drinks to pass the time before they start talking about whatever comes to their minds.  
  
It is something, Jeongin has always loved about hanging out with Seungmin.  
They never run out of conversations, can talk comfortably about anything and everything.  
  
Which doesn't mean that they always agree.  
Hell no, Jeongin sometimes feels, like they happen to be polar opposites in a lot of aspects.  
But he guesses, they have learned to accept their differences over the years.  
  
That way, Jeongin bears with Seungmin's surprisingly big amount of affection, while Seungmin accepts his reluctance in social situations.  
It's a give and take.  
  
Another fifteen minutes pass by, until Jeongin finally spots dark-blond hair at the entrance.  
  
Chan is clad in all black, just like the last time.  
Now, however, he is accompanied by two other boys, who look just about Jeongin's age.  
One of them has a brownish-orange haircolor, the other regular black strands.  
  
All three newcomers start scanning the cafe and Jeongin is quick to lean out of the booth and wave at them.  
  
Chan spots him immediately.  
A beaming smile spreads on his face, as he walks over towards Jeongin with both of his friends following behind.  
  
“Hey Jeongin! Nice to see you again!”, he greets wholeheartedly as he comes to a halt in front of their table.  
When his gaze wanders over to Seungmin however, his expression freezes.  
  
“Seungmin?”  
  
Now Chan sounds very, very small. Almost scared.  
That's new!  
  
Jeongin frowns.  
  
“Hey Channie!”  
  
Seungmin voice is sweet. Overly sweet. Fakely sweet.  
And Jeongin's confusion keeps growing.  
  
Chan looks pale all of the sudden. More so, than he did already anyways.  
  
“Does that mean, you know?”, he carefully asks Seungmin, and the latter huffs.  
  
“Yes I do!”, he snarls out, tone now way sharper than before.  
“I can't believe you did that! What the fuck, Chan?”  
  
Jeongin really would like for someone to explain to him, what is going on.  
  
Before anyone can react, however, the waiter passes them with one eyebrow raised in question.  
  
“Can I help any of you?”, he offers with the subtle hint of passive aggressiveness in his voice, that tells Jeongin, he will kick them out, if they start a scene here.  
  
One of Chan's friends – the one with the orange hair – seems to get that message, too.  
  
“Could we get two iced Americanos and one normal coffee, please?”  
  
His voice is much deeper than his rather harmless face leads on. Jeongin almost chokes on his own drink in surprise.  
  
The waiter throws one last critic glance in the direction of a still glaring Seungmin, before he nods and rushes off to get their orders.  
  
The orange-haired guy sighs.  
  
“Alright, I don't know, what's going on right now,” - Right, neither does Jeongin - “but can we maybe sit down before we argue?”  
  
Chan visibly gulps, when Seungmin gestures to the free seats in front of him and Jeongin.  
  
“Feel free to settle down!”, he offers with a smile, that is genuine for once. Apparently, his foul mood only seems to be directed at Chan, although Jeongin still doesn't have an ounce of a clue, why that is.  
  
The three newcomers shuffle into their spots and they wait for as long as the waiter takes to place their orders on their table.  
As soon as he is gone, however, Jeongin can't ignore the burning questions inside him any longer.  
  
“Okay, what the fuck is going on?”  
  
Chan looks very uncomfortable, while Seungmin leans back with another one of his fake smiles.  
  
“Do you wanna explain this, Chan, or should I?”, he asks and Chan heaves out a sigh.  
  
“Remember the scary guy I told you about, because of whom I stole the flowers?”, he then proceeds to mumble.  
His question is clearly directed at Jeongin.  
  
“Sure!”  
  
It takes Jeongin approximately ten seconds and a quick sideglance from Chan towards Seungmin, before things click.  
  
And then he can't help but laugh.  
  
“No way! That was you?”, he cackles at Seungmin, while Chan hides his face in his hands in embarrassment.  
  
“That was me!”, Seungmin confirms.  
Then he turns back towards Chan.  
  
“I can't believe you did that!”, he proceeds in an accusatory tone.  
“Why would you even come up with such a foolish idea?”  
  
Chan drops his hands from his face, that is still slightly red.  
  
“You would have killed me and used my skin as a bedside rug, if I would have shown up without the flowers!”, he whines.  
  
“I could do that now!”, Seungmin deadpans and Chan leans back to hide behind the black-haired guy to his left, as if he really expects Seungmin to leap at him over their table.  
  
Jeongin himself isn't sure, just how serious his best friend is at the moment, so he precautiously puts a hand on Seungmin's thigh to hold him back.  
The saying: 'Dogs, that bark, won't bite!' definitely does not apply to Seungmin after all.  
  
“Aaaalright!”, the dark-haired guy suddenly cuts in with waving hands.  
  
On closer inspection, Jeongin can't help but compare him to a squirrel in the most positive way possible.  
The boy has fuller cheeks and big doe eyes and is actually rather friendly-looking, now that Jeongin pays attention. The type of guy that borders the thin line between handsome and cute.  
  
Squirrel-guy continues.  
  
“I didn't understand a single thing you guys just said!”, he complains.  
“Would someone please fill me and Felix in?”  
  
Oh, so squirrel-guy must be Jisung, if the pretty orange-haired fella to Chan's right is Felix.  
Jeongin mentally notes that down for the rest of the conversation.  
Then he shakes his head.  
  
“I already told Seungmin the whole damn story today!”  
  
He takes another sip of his coffee.  
  
“This time, it's someone elses' turn!”  
  
Chan relents with a nod.  
  
“Guess, that's my job, then!”, he mumbles, before he starts re-telling the entire story one more time, including why he had needed the flowers in the first place and how he had come up with his stupid idea of 'lending' them from Jongwoo.  
  
Seungmin sits up at that point.  
  
“I told you ten fucking times to not forget the flowers!”, he nags at Chan, who still looks like a slightly frightened kicked puppy.  
“And three times to remember the holiday!”  
  
“I'm sorry, I forgot!”, Chan apologizes ruefully, before Felix ushers him to finish his story.  
  
In the end, Jisung and Felix are wheezing with laughter and Jeongin can't help but snicker along.  
  
“It's okay, Seung, he brought them back and bought me breakfast as an apology!”, he soothes his best friend, who still looks rather grumpy.  
  
“Rightfully so!”  
  
Despite his harsh words, Seungmin cracks a small grin at Jeongin.  
  
Felix calms down a bit from his laughing fit.  
  
“Wait,”, he manages to gasp out between pants. “does that mean, Chan and Seungmin knew each other all along, and Seungmin and Jeongin knew each other all along, and me and Jisung knew Chan, plus each other all along, but none of us ever stumbled across each other?”  
  
Jeongin takes a few hot seconds to understand, what the boy is trying to say.  
  
“True, that's surprisingly weird, considering we all go the same school as well!”, Jisung agrees.  
Apparently he has no problems of following Felix question.  
  
“But you guys are university students, while Joengin and me are still in our last year of highschool!”  
  
Seungmin seems to finally have calmed down completely and Jeongin dares to remove his hand from his friend's thigh.  
The danger seems banned for now. Chan will live for today.  
  
Jeongin is very glad about that, if he is honest.  
He probably would have missed the older already.  
  
They keep talking for a while and Jeongin finds the conversation flowing very easily.  
  
Jisung is a very talkactive and funny guy, while Felix is a little more quiet but with double the warmth radiating off his few sentences.  
And Chan is as friendly as ever, with his dimpled smile and kind behavior.  
  
It's comfortable, hilarious at times, and familiar in some sort of way, that lets Jeongin forget about the cold emptiness waiting for him at home.  
  
Even when they finally part ways and he walks home with Seungmin and the phone numbers of both, Felix and Jisung as well, the warmth and giddiness within him doesn't leave.  
  
Jeongin has missed this.  
  
He never regretted spending time with Jongwoo.  
He never complained, that Minho and him practically lived their lives in the hospital, despite them being perfectly healthy.  
  
But the small ember of wistfulness had never quite died out, whenever he had turned down another invitation, had spent another day in that disgustingly bright room instead of outside.  
  
He had never regretted it.  
But that doesn't mean he never wished for something else.  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
  
Seungmin links their arms together and Jeongin lets it happen.  
  
It's late in the afternoon already, and since the sun has sunk beneath the horizon, the temperatures have dropped as well.  
Seungmin's warmth is welcome.  
  
“About Chan!”  
  
Jeongin throws a glance towards the streetlights, that are starting to light up.  
  
“I'm glad, he stole the flowers! Otherwise, I would probably never have met him and the other two!”  
  
Seungmin lets out something, that sounds like the mix of a scoff and a growl.  
  
“There are more common ways to get to know someone, that don't involve moral crimes!”, he grumbles, but Jeongin only grins.  
  
“Now where would be the fun in that?”, he teases.  
  
Seungmin eventually lets out a giggle as well.  
  
“Only good, that it wasn't Minho, who met him first!”  
  
Jeongin snorts.  
  
“Yeah, thank goodness for that!”, he agrees.  
“I better not tell him now either. He was hella pissed, when he found out, someone stole Jongs' flowers! He looked like he was ready for murder.”  
  
“Don't you think, he will find it out eventually, when you start hanging with them more?”, Seungmin questions.  
They have almost reached the point, where they need to part ways.  
  
Jeongin gives a final shrug.  
  
“We'll see!”, he answers, as a gush of fresh wind brushes past them, that carries the unmistakable scent of fall.  
  
“Maybe, I'll introduce them at some point!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Please leave as many comments as you like if you have the time and motivation.  
> It really means the world to me and i could use a lot of constructive criticism!
> 
> I know, this chapter was kind of rushed, but that was because its a filler chapter, that originally, i didn't even mean to include in this story.  
> But, now its out, so i hope you liked it. Next chapter will finally include Minchan's first meeting!;)
> 
> Stay save, everyone! 
> 
> And please feel free to comment, even if its just to rant about straykids instead of this chapter. I'm lonely, i dont have any stay-friends!:'(


	7. Sixths (yeah, whatever!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [...]  
> "Have you joined a cult again?"
> 
> Jeongin groans and Hyunjin joins him after swallowing.
> 
> "One time, Min!", Jeongin grumbles. "That was one damn time!"
> 
> [...]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so my chapter got too long for my computer to upload, so i had to split it....
> 
> ...which means, chan and Minho only meet in the next chapter...he he he...
> 
> I'm sorry, i promise i will post it soon! Today or tomorrow, whenever i have the time!>.<
> 
> till then, i hope, you enjoy this chapter as well!;)

September passes, October arrives.  
  
Every one of Minho's visits at the cemetery gets colder with the proper beginning of fall and there are times, when even gloves, scarf and coat can't keep him warm enough to not return home shivering like a dry leaf in the wind.  
Nonetheless, there isn't a single day, Minho doesn't stop by Jongwoo's grave to tell him about his day.  
  
In the beginning, Jeongin joins him rather often, but the more weeks pass, the less he comes along.  
  
Hanging out with new friends, is the excuse he uses every time, and Minho can feel himself grow more and more irritated with each day, he sits alone at the graveyard or listens to the clicking of the closing door, after Jeongin has set off to another meet-up.  
  
He knows, he isn't the best company at the moment.  
But without Jeongin with him, he feels even more lonely. Even their apartment seems emptier, like a dead hole, that threatens to swallow Minho, if he dares to allow his thoughts to wander through it's gray rooms for too long.  
  
Minho isn't even sure, what is worse.  
Being alone at home with his thoughts or being at school, slash their school's dance practice rooms.  
  
The latter is, where he is right now, sitting at the sidelines and observing a dance, of which he knows, that he could do it a good few notches better than their group's current lead dancer.  
  
The music drums in his ears, but while before it used to hypnotize him, Minho now only hears noise.  
A deafening clamor he wants to drown in and run from at the same time.  
  
The dance ends and the music stops, as their dance teacher throws instructions into the room.  
  
Minho can smell the sweat in the air, mixed with varying whiffs of deodorant.  
He himself is still completely dry.  
Of course, since he...  
  
“What a shame, that you still have to rest your foot!”  
  
Mrs. Kim walks over to his seat with a waterbottle in hand. She, too, is sweating.  
  
 _'Probably from the hopeless attempt of trying to teach Junhyung that dancemove on the third count!'_ , Minho thinks.  
  
His classmate has been doing it wrong ever since practice had started.  
  
“Yeah, it's unfortunate!”, he agrees out loud.  
Even throws in a small sad smile to convince his teacher of his sincerity.  
  
With her free hand, Mrs. Kim pats his shoulder encouragingly.  
  
“Don't worry!”  
  
She tries what Minho assumes to be a sympathetic expression, but it has more similarity with a pained grimace.  
Which is fair, because that means, she will have to keep trying to find potential in Junhyung, that just isn't there.  
  
“You will be dancing in no time again!”  
  
It remains unclear, whether she wants to give Minho or herself hope with that statement.  
Minho simply chooses not to comment on it but only nods.  
  
He is not one to praise himself easily, but he knows, he is better than his classmate.  
  
Was better.  
  
When Mrs. Kim returns to her spot in the front of the practice room to get the other students back off their asses, Minho slumps back in his chair.  
  
People are so stunningly easy to fool, it's almost ridiculous.  
  
Again, music lets the air tremble.  
The group starts the dance from the top, and Minho has to bite his lip hard, when Junhyung misses the beat for the umpteenth time for this day.  
  
His classmate is a cool guy, but he has the dancing potential of a run-over weasel.  
To give it to him, Minho knows, that Junhyung is aware of that fact as well. He only dances because of his parents.  
  
Minho himself has long memorized the entire choreography without even going through it once.  
He doesn't have to, to know, that if he would try, then he would succeed.  
It's like a promise, a premonition. Minho just knows.  
  
But he is also very aware of the reluctance in his ribcage, that pulls him away from the practice-room mirrors every time he considers giving it a try again.  
  
Dancing used to be his passion, his save heaven.  
But even that save heaven couldn't protect him from Jongwoo's death and everything, that came with it.  
  
By now, after weeks of despair and hopelessness, of sheer endless bills, phone calls and resignations, Minho has lost trust in what he once liked to rely on most.  
  
Which is, why even though he knows perfectly well, that he will be able do this certain choreography, he doesn't feel capable of dancing.  
Because dancing requires more than just a simple copy&paste of movements and steps.  
Dancing you do with your heart.  
  
And Minho did.  
He used to.  
  
 _“You make the room shake with your stage-presence!”_ , Jongwoo once told him after one performance of his, that Jongwoo had insisted to watch despite his bad condition.  
  
Minho had smiled back then in the face of his older brother's praise.  
Now sincere laughing seems like something very far away from him.  
Too far to reach it.  
  
The music stops only shortly to allow his dance instructor to yell something at the class, before everything resumes.  
  
Minho lets his gaze wander to the empty ceiling of the room, as his thoughts drift away from reality.  
  
As a dance major he will have to start joining his dance classes again eventually.  
But Minho can't find it in himself to care about that.  
  
Time has become a concept, his exhausted mind can't seem to follow, and the future resembles something unreachable to Minho.  
Something he isn't even sure he will have.  
  
It's too hard to think about, so Minho allows his head to bring him to other places, times in the past that are easier to remember.  
A new safe place he can build, that is filled with warmth, wholeness and harmony.  
  
When Minho still had a family.  
__________  
  
“How was your dance class?”  
  
Hyunjin catches up to Minho, when he is on his way off the school's campus.  
  
Hair disheveled and uniform switched against a more comfortable jumper, it's no secret, that Hyunjin has dutifully participated in his own training.  
Him and Minho are in separate classes, but still get off at the same time, just like every Saturday.  
  
“It was okay.”  
  
Minho isn't lying. Not yet.  
Hyunjin doesn't know, Minho isn't dancing at the moment, and if he can help it, Minho isn't about to let him find out.  
His friend already worries enough about him and Minho wouldn't even be able to explain why he stopped dancing.  
  
He just can't.  
  
But Hyunjin – the guy who breathes dance – wouldn't be able to understand that, and Minho doesn't have the patience, nor the breath to try and put something into words, that he isn't even able to express in his own thoughts.  
  
“Wow, someone's talk-active today!”, Hyunjin snorts as he readjusts the strap of his backpack.  
  
To Minho's luck though, he doesn't press on further.  
Instead, he pushes Minho a bit to the left, onto the sidewalk, and away from the bus stop.  
  
“We're walking today!”, Hyunjin explains, when Minho throws him a questioning glance.  
“I still feel, like I'm steaming and I really can't stand a sticky busride at the moment!”  
  
“You could have showered in the changing rooms, you know?”, Minho reminds, but the advice is rather rhetorical.  
  
Hyunjin always showers at his place after their Weekend classes.  
After that, he stays to play games with Jeongin and most of the times, he even stays over for the weekend, so he doesn't have to return to his own cramped dorm.  
  
After all, not everyone has the privilege of getting bankrolled an entire apartment by their rich uncle from overseas.  
  
Hyunjin doesn't even bother to reply to Minho, as they cross the main road at the streetlight.  
They walk in silence for a few minutes, before Hyunjin pipes up again.  
  
“What are we gonna do today?”  
  
Minho shrugs.  
He's still sitting on a ton of assignments from school, that he should already be done with.  
But judging by his amazing concentration, that adds up to about five minutes of focus daily, he doesn't see himself finishing those today either.  
  
“You haven't played games with Jeongin in a while!”, he instead answers.  
“I think, he is training to beat me at MarioKart and could really use an opponent to practice with!”  
  
Dramatically, Hyunjin draped himself over Minho's shoulder with a fakes wail.  
The added weight almost throws Minho off course, but he manages to not crash into the older woman passing them.  
  
Hyunjin is unbothered by the accident he just almost caused.  
  
“But we will never be able to beat you at MarioKart!”, he whines.  
  
Minho pushes him off his shoulder to not have an added weight of 114 pounds to carry additionally to his own bag.  
  
“Sounds like a you-problem!”, he deadpans and Hyunjin only huffs the more.  
  
“You are a horrible person!”  
  
Minho can't help the small grin escaping him.  
  
“Why, thank you!”  
_____  
  
After they have reached home and both of them have showered, they meet in the kitchen, where Hyunjin immediately complains about their empty fridge.  
  
Its a sore spot for Minho, if he is honest, because he _knows_ he needs to go grocery shopping.  
  
He honestly isn't sure, what Jeongin is living from at the moment, because the last time Minho has cooked something, must have been over two weeks ago.  
Minho also _knows_ , he himself should also stop living from only instant ramen and coffee, but most of the days, he doesn't even have that much of an appetite.  
  
Food isn't much of a priority anymore, if he is honest.  
  
Nonetheless, he assures Hyunjin, that he will fill up their fridge again soon, before he silences his friend with two cups of ramen.  
  
“Where is Innie by the way?”, Hyunjin asks, as they wait for their food to be done.  
  
It's a good question, because even though Jeongin doesn't have school today, he still is an early-riser, and it's already half past twelve.  
But if Jeongin had been awake and in his room, he would have come out already.  
  
“He didn't mention anything to me about any appointments for today!”, Minho replies.  
  
He quickly checks his phone, but doesn't find any new messages waiting for him.  
  
Maybe Jeongin has finally gotten sick of living off ramen and the few cornflakes they still have left and went grocery shopping?  
  
In that second, the front door's lock clicks.  
  
“Min?”  
  
“In the Kitchen!”, Minho responds to Jeongin's call.  
  
Footsteps can be heard, then Jeongin rounds the corner of the hallway.  
He is dressed in a warm jacket and has his shoes still on, but the thing, that surprises Minho the most, is the big smile, that lights up his brother's face.  
  
It's been a while, since the last time, Jeongin looked this happy.  
Weeks. Months even.  
  
“Oh, hey Jinnie!”, Jeongin greets Hyunjin as well.  
Then he turns back towards Minho.  
  
“Do you still have some cash lying around?”, he asks, and Minho's surprise turns into suspicion.  
  
Why does Jeongin need cash? Why is he so happy and needs cash?  
Unless...  
  
“Innie, are you taking drugs?”  
  
Hyunjin and Jeongin look equally stunned at Minho's question, before Jeongin starts laughing.  
Minho hasn't seen his younger brother laughing ever since February.  
  
“What the fuck, Min?”  
  
Jeongin checks his phone for a second.  
  
“I'm just out of change and I'm going out with my friends!”  
  
There it is again. That irritation Minho experiences every damn time Jeongin talks of his 'friends' again.  
  
And the fact, that Jeongin cursed without even apologizing for it does nothing in soothing Minho's temper, as it flares up.  
  
He never cared much about swearwords.  
They were just words, society had proclaimed bad after all.  
The scapegoats, if you wanted.  
  
But Jongwoo had cared, and Jeongin ignoring that feels, as if he is turning his back on their family.  
  
“First of all, watch your language!”, Minho bites out, and Jeongin's grin fades.  
  
There is something twisting in his dark eyes, that seems, like it wants to break out, but eventually, Jeongin drops his gaze to the floor with his lips pressed together.  
  
“Sorry!”, he mumbles.  
  
It sounds very small, and immediately, Minho feels bad about snapping so hard.  
  
Who is he to kill the only smile Jeongin has shown in a while?  
No wonder, his little brother rather hangs out with other people.  
But then again, despite his guilt, Minho can't stop himself from asking anymore.  
  
“Who are those new friends you keep talking about?”, he probes further.  
  
He really tries to keep his voice neutral, but nonetheless, it sounds rather nagging.  
  
Now, Jeongin looks more on guard, as he raises his head again.  
  
“A new group I met a little over one month ago!”, he explains, carefully, as if he is walking over a frozen lake that could crack any second now.  
“We wanted to go ice-skating today!”  
  
Ice-skating. At least that doesn't sound like an activity, shady groups would participate in.  
Nonetheless, Minho remains suspicious.  
  
“And how many 'friends' are those?”  
  
“Jeez, Min, stop staring at him, like this is a cross examination!”, Hyunjin interrupts him, and Minho realizes, how glumly he has been looking at his brother, who seems to keep shrinking under his gaze.  
  
He forces himself to lighten up a bit.  
He is the older one after all! That means, he should support Jeongin, not drive him away!  
  
“Sorry Innie, I don't mean to sound so aggressive!”, he manages to apologize.  
“I just want to know, where you keep disappearing off to.”  
  
Immediately, Jeongin seems to relax.  
  
There still is reluctance evident in his expression, but nonetheless, he proceeds to answer Minho's question.  
  
“I made four new friends in total!”, he explains with a small smile.  
“Seung is part of our new group, too, and the others are called Chan, Changbin, Felix and Jisung!”  
  
Minho frowns.  
  
Jeongin has never been that good at making new friends.  
How come, now his brother suddenly has an entire new peer group all at once?  
  
Hyunjin seems to think the same thing.  
  
“How did you guys meet?”, he asks while pulling the lid off his forgotten ramen cup.  
  
Jeongin shrinks into himself, without giving an answer.  
The action sends all of Minho's alarm bells into action.  
  
“Jeongin?”, he probes.  
  
His brother heaves out a deep exasperated sigh, that could even compete with Hyunjin's level of theatrics.  
  
“Jeez, you guys sound like my parents!”  
  
Hyunjin doesn't even bother to swallow before he replies.  
  
“Don't disrespect your elders then!”  
  
His statement loosens the tension in the air and Jeongin gives one last resigned huff.  
  
“But only if you promise neither to kill me, nor Channie!”, he then orders.  
  
Minho can feel his frown deepening and Hyunjin stops chewing for a second.  
  
“That doesn't sound good!”, Minho voices the bad premonition, he is starting to get.  
“Have you joined a cult again?”  
  
Jeongin groans and Hyunjin joins him after swallowing.  
  
“One time, Min!”, Jeongin grumbles.  
“That was one damn time!”  
  
“Still one time to often!”, Minho replies, but grins, when he feels the pain of Hyunjin kicking him under the table for his comment.  
  
His friend has trusted the wrong people one time too often already as well, and since it thankfully turned out well, Minho is able to tease both – his best friend and his little brother – about this incident for the rest of eternity.  
  
“Now, proceed!”, Minho eventually pushes Jeongin to continue, and maybe it is the comfortable atmosphere they have reached, but his brother actually does without further ado.  
  
“Remember a few weeks ago, when someone stole the flowers off Jongs' grave?”  
  
Immediately, Minho can feel his good mood souring, as he is reminded of that day.  
  
Seldom he had felt that disappointed in and angry at human kind.  
The thought that someone would really dare to rob Jongwoo of the last thing his brother has left to give, had kept him awake that night and he had used his sleepless time to create a picture in his mind, of the someone whom he now would call his most despised person on this planet.  
  
“Yeah, I remember!”, he bites out.  
“What about that?”  
  
Jeongin looks unsure about whether he should continue, but in the end, he does.  
  
“Well, “, he begins while avoiding Minho's gaze to fiddle with the rings on his fingers.  
“turns out, there was a story behind this and the guy actually just lend them and brought them back on the next day – which was, when I met him, when I went to bring new flowers there.”  
  
Minho doesn't like the direction in which this conversation is going.  
Not at all!  
  
“You are saying?”, he asks to make sure.  
  
His brother takes in a deep breath.  
  
“I'm saying -”, he finally proceeds. “-that I got to know the guy, who lend Jongs flowers and found out, that he actually isn't too bad of a guy. And through him I met the other three!”  
  
Silence engulfs the kitchen, save for Hyunjin's munching, and Minho isn't sure, of how to react.  
  
He doesn't want to control Jeongin and try to tell him of whom to befriend, but the fact, that his brother has chosen to get close to the worst guy possible in Minho's eyes still comes as a shock.  
  
“How can he not be such a bad guy when he really had the audacity to take from a dead person?”, he eventually manages to ask with his voice at least somewhat levelheaded.  
  
He himself doesn't feel very levelheaded though.  
More like ready to avenge every single flower from his stolen bouquet.  
  
Normally, Minho isn't one to hold grudges, but this time it's personal.  
  
Jeongin winces.  
  
“Okay, I get what you mean!”, he agrees reluctantly.  
“But Chan had his reasons! Given, they weren't really _good_ reasons, but they were still understandable!”  
  
Hyunjin shoves his emptied ramen cup to the side.  
  
“What reasons did he have then?”  
  
He sounds more curious than annoyed, and Minho is sure, his friend is just staying to enjoy the drama right now.  
  
Jeongin shrugs.  
  
“He would have have to deal with an angry Seungmin otherwise!”  
  
Hyunjin chokes on the water he has taken a sip from, while Minho stills on his spot.  
  
Oh.  
  
That actually is a reason.  
  
Coughs fill the room, when Hyunjin starts breathing again – or something along the lines of it – and Minho quickly pats his back to not have to go and find himself another best friend.  
Heartfelt idiots like Hyunjin are quite rare after all.  
  
“Okay, let's say, I get his reasoning...”, Minho starts.  
  
He has seen Seungmin angry once, and avoiding that kind of rage really is a certain method of selfcare.  
He still doesn't like this Chan-dude, but at least he didn't take Jongs flowers with ill intend.  
  
“...that still doesn't mean, he is a decent guy!”  
  
Shoes and jacket still on, Jeongin pulls out one of the remaining chairs opposite Minho and Hyunjin and plops down on it with a deep sigh.  
  
“He really is though!”, he assures.  
“There isn't one guy out there, that could outdo Channie in friendliness!”  
  
With his hand he pushes the leftover ramen cup closer towards Minho.  
  
“Really, if you guys would meet him, you'd know what I mean!”  
  
While Minho accepts the food, Hyunjin finally regains the ability to produce proper words again.  
  
“Why don't we join you then!”  
  
This time, it's on Minho to choke, but thankfully, he manages to put order into his airways much quicker than Hyunjin.  
  
“Hyun, what the fuck!”, he is able to croak out and Jeongin bellows a loud “Ha!”, in face of the swearword Minho has let slip through his lips in his moment of disbelief.  
  
Hyunjin only shrugs nonchalantly.  
  
“What? You will be suspicious of them anyways, not matter what Innie tells you, unless reality convinces you otherwise!”, he justifies.  
  
He is not wrong, and Minho knows that, as he thoughtfully stirs his food a bit.  
It's only lukewarm and actually, Minho doesn't even feel that hungry anymore, but if he stops eating now, Jeongin will question it.  
  
“Would that even be possible?”, he eventually asks.  
  
A beam goes over Jeongin's face, as he sits upright in his chair.  
  
“You guys can just tag along now!”, he offers.  
  
The excitement in his voice is clearly evident and makes Minho weak.  
  
“I haven't been at the graveyard yet though!”, he tries to protest.  
At least put up a bit of a fight, despite getting more and more curious of Jeongin's new friends now.  
  
“Min, we can do that afterwards!”, Jeongin whines, and Minho knows, he has lost this battle.  
  
Jeongin indicating, that he will accompany him to visit Jongwoo is more than enough of a promise.  
Then he at least won't have to sit there all on his own again.  
  
“Alright, if you want, we'll come with you to meet your peers!”, he gives in, and Jeongin lets out a small cry of victory.  
  
“I'll text them right away!”, he assures with a big grin before practically leaping off his chair and out of the kitchen.  
  
In the silence, he leaves behind, Minho can feel Hyunjin's burning stare on the left side of his face.  
  
“What?”, he defends.  
  
His friend raises one skeptic eyebrow.  
  
“Will I have to prepare for a bloodbath, or are you really willing to give that guy a chance?”  
  
Hyunjin simply knows him too well.  
Minho would never admit it out loud, but sometimes he really wouldn't know what to do, if it weren't for his best friend.  
  
With a sigh, he leans back in his chair.  
  
“Best be ready for anything!”, he mumbles.  
  
The few mouthful of ramen he has eaten, have left a weird aftertaste on his tongue and he reaches for his water bottle to wash it away.  
  
“That Chan-dude still needs to prove himself!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it?  
> Please feel free to leave your criticism (or praise, im a sucker for praise, dont be shy;b) in the comments!  
> I'll take my time to answer to every single comment!  
> Interacting with my readers really makes my day, you can't even imagine!
> 
> Next time, Minho and Chan will finally meet! Please look forward to it!!!:)
> 
> Stay save! luv u all!;)


	8. Sevenths (yup)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About attractive battering rams and rainbow-farting-gays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the second part! I hope, you guys like it!;)
> 
> Please read the chapter notes at the end!

They arrive at the skating-rink fifteen minutes late, because Hyunjin had insisted on styling his hair and therefore,they had missed the first bus.  
  
Minho would have been worried about letting Jeongin's friends wait, if it hadn't been for the fact, that he finds it somewhat fair to let the guy wait, who stole Jongs' flowers.  
That way, he doesn't even bother to rush Hyunjin and even allows him to style Minho's own strands a bit, before they leave.  
  
Jeongin, however, is nowhere near stressed either.  
He rather uses the time to catch up Minho and Hyunjin about the details of how he had met his new friends, and Minho finds out, that apparently, punctuality isn't really one of Chan's qualities.  
  
When they cross the parking lot of the ice-hall though, Jeongin points at one certain black car.  
  
It's old and has a few dents and scratches decorating it's walls, but the thing, that makes it stand out the most, is the fact, that it's in no way meeting the drawn borderlines for the parking spots.  
  
The left hind-wheel is on the wrong side of the space, the front sticks out on the other side and all in all, is looks, like a three-year-old got sick of their toy-cars and tried their luck with the real deal.  
  
“They are already here!”, Jeongin comments, seemingly completely unbothered by the horror-show of a parking job the black car is presenting to them.  
“I bet, Jisung dragged Channie along! Otherwise he would never have made it here in time!”  
  
“Is that his car?”, Hyunjin asks the important questions.  
He looks equally judgmental as Minho feels but doesn't dare to say out loud in favor of not angering Jeongin.  
  
Jeongin shakes his head with a carefree smile.  
  
“Nope, it belongs to Changbin, Chan's friend and close collegue!”, he explains, as they pass the car.  
“Though I am pretty sure, Chan drives it around more, than Changbin does. After all, Binnie's not even gonna be there with us today, since he is busy!”  
  
Minho gives the car one last side-glance.  
It almost looks rebellious with how it is defying every social norm, that considers the art of parking.  
  
Minho eventually can't keep his criticism to himself any longer.  
  
“That's a horrible parking-job!”, he blurts out.  
  
To his relief, Jeongin only giggles.  
  
“That was Jisung!”, he replies and Minho isn't sure, if it is a good or a bad thing, that apparently, Chan has better aim.  
  
“Then Jisung's parking job is horrible!”, Hyunjin comments.  
  
They reach the huge building and Jeongin pushes open the front door to let them in.  
  
“Jisung's still training for his driver's license, which is why Channie allows him to do the parking whenever he wants!”, he continues, as they walk up to the front desk of the ice-rink.  
  
“However, “, Jeongin steals Minho's wallet out of his jacket pocket.  
“Jisung's parking job is just as straight as he himself is!”  
  
For the second time this day, Hyunjin almost dies, this time with an undignified shriek, that seems to scare the living shit out of the poor woman at the reception desk.  
  
Jeongin quickly buys them all tickets for two hours and lends them the proper equipment, while Minho rubs soothing circles into the back of a hyperventilating Hyunjin, before they move on to the changing rooms.  
  
“You never mentioned, they were gay!”, Hyunjin heaves, as soon as they are in the solitude of the empty room.  
“A little bit of a warning would have been nice!”  
  
Jeongin drops his ice skates to the floor and hands Minho back his wallet, before he bows down to untie the laces of his shoes.  
  
“You could have expected that!”, he answers Hyunjin without sympathy.  
“Gay finds gay after all, and although I don't identify as such, I'm pretty influenced by both of your gay as-...butts!”  
  
“I heard that!”, Minho warns as he goes to changes his shoes as well.  
  
Jeongin is right, though.  
  
Both, him and Hyunjin have come out the closet a long time ago.  
They don't hide the fact, that they have not the slightest ounce of an interest in girls, and if Minho is honest, then he would have to admit, that his first kiss and first time had both been with his best friend.  
  
Hyunjin is an attractive guy after all, and even though the both of them never had feelings for each other, that went above the bro-line, they still had shared a lot of firsts together.  
  
Gay dudes were rare, after all, and gay dudes, that lived up to Minho's expectations – even more so!  
  
But Minho admits, that through all that, Jeongin has probably gotten sprinkled with a bit of rainbow himself, even though his younger brother doesn't identify as homosexual.  
  
“Alright, so, does that mean, all of them like guys?”, he asks to make sure, while he secures the laces of his second skate.  
Hyunjin is still frozen in the middle of the room and hasn't even started changing.  
  
Jeongin gets up, already good to go.  
  
“Jisung is gay, Felix and Changbin are bi and Chan is complicated!”, he lists without even batting an eyelash.  
“He doesn't care that much about gender though, so yeah, I guess he likes guys, too!”  
  
“So basically, you and Seungmin are the only outsiders?”, Hyunjin probes.  
  
“Seungmin isn't capable of love!”, Minho chimes in as he straightens back up.  
  
He pointedly ignores the glare Jeongin throws him in reply to his statement.  
The platonic toddler-love, his brother and Seungmin have developed over the years is truly endearing, but Minho stands by his belief, that Seungmin is the devil's lapdog raised from hell.  
  
“Whatever, take your time to get over your existential crisis!”, Jeongin eventually gives up his wait.  
  
He motions for the exit towards the ice-rink behind him.  
  
“I'm gonna go ahead and let everyone know, we've made it at last!”  
  
“But...-”, Hyunjin tries, but Jeongin waddles out on his blades before any more words find their way out Hyunjin's mouth.  
Behind him, the door clicks back shut.  
  
With a frustrated whine, Hyunjin whirls around to Minho.  
  
“I wasn't prepared for a surprise-homo-alliance!”  
  
His complains fall on deaf ears however.  
After years of friendship, Minho is used to Hyunjin's antics.  
  
“Just get changed and quit the drama, Hyun!”  
  
He checks his laces one last time, but they are well secured.  
  
“If you don't want this to go into a complicated direction, then don't mention your sexuality! It's not like you're farting rainbows, that could give them ideas after all!”  
  
Hyunjin huffs in obvious offense but moves to exchange his shoes for his skates nonetheless.  
  
“I won't fart on front of them anyways, rainbows or not!”, he grumbles.  
  
Minho just rolls his eyes.  
  
After a few minutes, filled with some more incomprehensible grumbles from Hyunjin, they are finally ready to leave the changing rooms.  
  
As soon as Minho opens the door to the hall, cold air welcomes him and bites his ears, that are still warmed up from the heated dressing room.  
Hyunjin shudders as well.  
  
“It's even colder in here than outside!”  
  
Minho raises his brows at his friend.  
  
“Well, what did you expect, genius?”, he teases.  
“We've barely dipped past the 15-degrees-marking today. In here we're around 8!”  
  
“Oh, so you're the expert now?”, Hyunjin huffs.  
  
His tone is comparable to the one of a 3-year-old, and Minho chooses not to remind him, that he had to do a presentation on temperature-regulations in buildings last year in business-classes and that he is – in fact – somewhat along the lines of an expert on this topic.  
At least compared to Hyunjin.  
  
They walk down the lane towards one of the benches in front of the rink's railing.  
  
The feeling of having to balance himself out on the blades under his feet is foreign and yet somehow normal to Minho.  
Thanks to dancing, he has a pretty well-trained balance, so he isn't worried about skating.  
  
The last time, Minho has been here, must have been years ago, back when he was still in middle school.  
But just like he knows, he could dance that one choreography from school, he also knows, he will cut a decent figure while skating.  
He is a dancer, after all.  
  
Or at least, Minho used to be.  
  
“Look, Innie's over there!”, Hyunjin mentions in that moment.  
  
His arm is pointing over the railing onto the other side of the huge lake of ice in front of them towards a group of four people.  
  
Although Minho can clearly recognize Jeongin by the red scarf his brother is wearing, they are too far away to identify anything more complex than colors and forms.  
  
No squinting does the job, so eventually, Minho has enough.  
To his own surprise, his curiosity is sky-rocketing by now and there is no way, he is ready to wait for Jeongin to see them and bring his friends over to him and Hyunjin.  
  
“Come on, let's get going!”, he ushers Hyunjin over to the closest bench.  
  
Hyunjin grins.  
  
“Someone's eager all of the sudden!”  
  
“Shut up!”, Minho snaps back good-naturedly.  
  
He knows, despite his prior melt-down, Hyunjin is just as excited as he himself feels at the moment.  
  
They both take off the plastic strips meant to protect their blades, before they walk over to the gate in the railing.  
  
When Minho's blades make contact with the ice, it feels strange.  
As if – despite not having glided forward even the tiniest bit, his body knows, that now he is capable of more than just the awkward waddling Minho has been doing so far.  
  
Just like, when he used to step into the dance-practice rooms at his university and could sense his own adrenaline rising in the face of his planned activity.  
  
The promising thrill of accomplishing more than just the movements nature had gifted everyone with.  
  
The triumphing knowledge, that he was capable of more.  
  
Ignoring the tension in his muscles that asks to get released, Minho waits, until Hyunjin has stepped up to his side.  
  
“Good to go?”, he questions.  
  
Hyunjin nods.  
  
“Sure, I'll just try not to make a fool out of m-”, he starts, when in that moment, a high pitched shriek, followed by laughter cuts through the peaceful atmosphere of the ice-rink.  
  
Minho has just enough time to look up, when another scream of pure terror vibrates through the cold air, considerably closer now.  
  
His eyes catch onto a form that is speeding towards him, before in the next moment, is is already hurdling past him with way too much momentum to even craze the possibility of being able to come to a proper halt before the...!  
  
Minho winces, when the person crashes right into the barrier beside him with a dull thud before proceeding to slump to the icy ground with the grace of a limp sack of potatoes.  
  
Thankfully, Minho himself has been standing a bit more to the left.  
Heavens know, what would have happened to him, if he would have been in the way of that human battering ram!  
  
 _'Is that a dent in the wall?'_  
  
The battering ram lets out a low groan and Minho is reminded of the fact, that denial of assistance is indeed a crime in his country.  
Of course, there are a few other people in the hall, but Minho is the closest after all.  
  
 _'They really had to choose my side of the rink to bodycheck the railing, didn't they?'_ , he thinks, as he carefully steps closer towards the person on the ground, that still has made no attempt in getting back up.  
  
Behind him, he can hear Hyunjin's breath hitch.  
His friend is sensitive when it comes to stressful situations, so Minho doesn't expect any help from him.  
  
“Hey, are you alright?”  
  
On closer inspection, the person turns out to be a guy Minho's age with dirty blond hair, clasped in all black.  
As Minho bows over him to check, whether he is conscious, dark eyes blink up to Minho.  
  
“I'm not entirely sure!”, the blond groans.  
“I think, my entire front-side is blue!”  
  
“How about you turn around to cool it?”, Minho suggests and the guy on the ground lets out a short laugh.  
  
“Nice idea!”, he agrees with a smile, that carves a dimple into his cheek.  
  
Minho doesn't want to acknowledge it, because he certainly has other things to worry about at the moment, but the human battering ram is actually rather attractive.  
  
“Do you need a hand?”, he asks, because that's the polite thing to do.  
  
Not because the guy is cute.  
  
“I don't think, your hand would help me all too much with getting up, but thank you for the offer!”, the blond replies.  
“I'll just wait for my friends to come to collect my peaces!”  
  
“Which ones are your friends?”, Minho asks to at least be able to wave the guy's group over to take care of him.  
  
Even if annoyed, Minho still has a soul.  
A rather gay one on top of it.  
  
“Hey Channie, are you alright?”, a voice suddenly pipes up from the front and when Minho looks up, three boys make their way towards him and Hyunjin, who is still standing behind him without moving, as if he has become one with the ice on the ground.  
  
Jeongin is one of the boys.  
  
“Well, even if I am, it wouldn't be thanks to you three bastards!”, the guy one the ground responds snappishly, as he shifts a bit to be able to turn his head enough to look at the newcomers' faces.  
“I fucking told you, I can't brake!”  
  
“You can't do anything on the ice, Channie!”, Jeongin corrects the blond with a giggle, and the puzzle pieces inside Minho's head are starting to click into place.  
  
One of the two new – still standing – guys, moves to help his friend up.  
It's a rather ungraceful struggle against gravity, until the blond guy is back on both of his feet.  
  
He looks, like he is close to toppling right over again, with his legs quivering under him, and Minho is immediately reminded of that one scene from Bambi, where the fawn is on the frozen lake for the first time.  
  
Thankfully, the guy's black-haired friend seems to sense his lack of balance and holds him upright by the hip.  
  
“As I see it, you guys met already!”, Jeongin pipes up again, and it takes Minho a moment to grasp, that his brother is talking to him.  
He frowns and Jeongin sighs.  
  
“Alright!”, he starts again before pointing at the third boy of the new group, whom Minho hasn't even really looked at yet thanks to the guy having kept quiet so far.  
  
“This is Felix!”, Jeongin says.  
  
Then he points at the dark-haired guy.  
  
“And that is Jisung!”  
  
Both boys grin and give a small wave.  
  
Minho remembers Jisung to be the non-straight-guy with the even-less-straight-parking-job and gives him a quick once-over.  
For scientific purposes.  
  
Jisung is dressed in skinny-jeans and a fluffy brown jacket, that only makes him seem more dainty than he already is.  
His black hair is ruffled and the soft appearance definitely suits him.  
  
Felix has a cute button-nose and adorable freckles, but his features are sharp, and his hair styled to keep his strands out of his face.  
  
Minho has to admit, that both boys are definitely closer to his standards than anyone has ever gotten - except for Hyunjin, who is bound by the best-friend-rules.  
  
“That's Hyunjin, a family-friend!”, Jeongin proceeds while pointing at Hyunjin, who still hasn't moved.  
  
He is staring at Jisung and Minho has to pinch his friend's ass hard for Hyunjin to start functioning again.  
  
“Ah, yeah, hi!”, he barks out, before his cheeks flush and Minho can't help rolling his eyes.  
  
Hyunjin has always been the perfect definition of a panicked gay.  
A lesbian gay, if you want to phrase it like that.  
  
“That's my brother, Minho!”, Jeongin introduces him and Minho forces his lips to throw a quick smile into their circle, before Jeongin continues.  
  
“And that -”, he points at the blond guy still clinging to Jisung. “- is Chan!”  
  
Chan.  
  
Of course.  
  
Of fucking course!  
  
The guy with the cute dimples turns out to be his self-proclaimed arch-enemy!  
  
Minho isn't sure, whether he should laugh or cry about this.  
  
As he looks over to Chan, his gaze meets dark eyes once again.  
Dark eyes widened in visible panic.  
  
“Oh my god!”, Chan mumbles.  
  
His lips are plump in a very unfair way, Minho notices.  
  
Chan makes an attempt in straightening up and Jisung has to catch him three times, before Chan manages to hold his balance on his own.  
  
Minus the hand Jisung keeps on his back to steady him and the dignity, that the blond had left behind on the ice after his third time of pathetic squirming for stability.  
  
Chan takes in a deep breath.  
  
“Hey Minho!”, he eventually starts.  
  
His voice sounds very timid all of the sudden.  
It's even wavering a little.  
  
“I'd like to apologize for stealing the flowers from your brother's grave!”, Chan goes on.  
His gaze drops to the ground, while his right hand comes up to rub his nape in obvious embarrassment.  
  
“That was very insensitive of me and I shouldn't have acted that way! I understand, why you are angry at me! I promise, it won't ever happen again!”  
  
Great!  
Now what is Minho supposed to say to that?  
  
Chan looks like a kicked puppy, mixed with a Greek god and offers him genuine regret regarding his crimes.  
How is Minho supposed to stay mad at someone like that?  
  
He wants to, he really does!  
Every other person would deserve it, and Minho really didn't plan on letting Chan off the hook that easily.  
He is almost mad at himself with how soft he feels all of the sudden, but he can definitely see, why Jeongin persisted on the idea, that Chan isn't a bad person.  
  
“If you dare to hurt him, I swear I will fight you!”, Jeongin threatens in that moment.  
  
The statement leaves Minho stunned.  
It's been a while, since he has seen this old fire Jeongin used to have.  
  
Chan looks over to Jeongin with amusement in his gaze.  
  
“You do realize, I can defend myself on my own, right?”, he asks.  
  
Jeongin snorts.  
  
“You can't even clap flies, Channie!”  
  
Now, Chan's bemusement turns into offense.  
It's fascinating to watch in a way.  
  
“I don't want to clap your brother!”  
  
Jeongin pats Chan's arm with a sympathetic smile.  
  
“My point exactly, Channie!”, he sighs.  
“My point exactly!”  
  
Minho gets lost in the pout, Chan sports in reply to Jeongin's words, before he is finally able to get back to himself after a few seconds.  
  
Jesus, what's wrong with him today?  
Minho isn't even sure, what brings him to say his next words.  
  
Probably the god-awful rainbow in his soul!  
  
Or maybe the fact that Jongwoo always taught him to forgive.  
  
“Guys, no one needs to defend anyone! I'm not a monster, I was just upset!”  
  
He can't quite decide, whose eyes are the biggest.  
Hyunjin's, Jeongin's or Chan's.  
  
“What?”, he asks, when after a few seconds, the silence begins to feel awkward.  
“I'm not saying, I'm cool with what happened, but I'm not five! I can see above all that in favor of a second chance!”  
  
Chan is the first one to break into a shy smile.  
It looks really good on him.  
  
“I'm sorry again!”, he repeats.  
“Thank you for being so considerate to not come for my skin!”  
  
Skin?  
Minho frowns in confusion, but his thoughts get disrupted by the dark-haired guy – Jisung.  
  
“Thank goodness, that is done and over with!”, he huffs in fake theatrics.  
“Chan has been nervous ever since we got the text, that Innie would bring his brother and his friend with him!”  
  
“Jisung!”, Chan hisses.  
  
The tips of his ears are tinted red now, and Minho is sure, it's not the fault of the low temperatures in here.  
  
“No really, it was horrible!”, Jisung continues, clearly unbothered by the fact that Chan's gaze is starting to become murderous.  
“He wanted to change and back out and buy flowers and stuff! I barely managed to get him to the ice-hall!”  
  
Minho can't help the small smirk that is starting to spread on his face all on its' own, while Chan hides his in the cover of his hands with a groan.  
  
“Well,”, Jisung continues on without regard for Chan's embarrassment.  
“Innie could have warned us, that you guys were hot!”  
  
“Jisung, shut up, or so help me, I will strangle you, as soon as we are on solid ground again!”, Chan interrupts his friend with growing despair painting his expression.  
  
Jisung shrugs in nonchalance, but he scoots a little further away from Chan nonetheless.  
  
“I could just leave you here!”, he suggests jokingly.  
  
Chan lifts his face from his hands to point at Jisung threateningly.  
  
“Sooner or later I will get off this frozen hell!”, he swears.  
“And I know where you live, Jisung! I will come for you in your sleep!”  
  
Jisung huffs.  
  
“Binnie would help me!”, he tries.  
  
Minho concludes, that 'Binnie' must be the fourth guy out of Jeongin's new peer-group – Changbin.  
  
Chan snorts dryly.  
  
“Binnie would get himself popcorn and watch me beat your ass with the utmost glee!”  
  
Apparently, he isn't wrong about that.  
  
“That's fair!”, Jisung agrees with a nod.  
“I ate his last stack of cookies yesterday.”  
  
Felix inhales sharply and Chan's jaw drops.  
It gives Minho the perfect opportunity to examine the blond's jawline, but he pointedly ignores it.  
More or less.  
  
“Do you have a death-wish?”, Chan asks.  
He sounds almost horrified.  
  
Jisung skates a small pirouette.  
  
“Not particularly right now, no!”  
  
He stops with a broad carefree grin on his face.  
  
“Ask me again on Monday after my mock-exam!”  
  
Minho can't help it any longer.  
When the giggle he has been holding back all along, finally escapes him, he once again becomes the center of attention.  
But this time, Minho can't find himself minding that fact.  
  
“I like them, Innie!”, he assures his brother with a soft smile.  
  
The grin on Jeongin's face is worth everything and warms Minho's heart inside out.  
  
“They really seem to be good guys!”  
  
“Awesome, we like you, too!”, the guy named Felix returns his words.  
  
Jisung nods along with obvious enthusiasm.  
  
“Yeah, you seem decent!”  
  
“Not morally, we're not!”, Minho retorts without further thinking and Hyunjin snorts behind him.  
  
Jisung makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.  
  
“Neither is Channie!”  
  
Chan heaves out a sigh filled with the deeply rooted resignation only an only-parent can muster.  
  
“Jisung, sometimes I really question, why we are friends!”, he whines.  
  
Jisung only grins.  
  
“Because I have amazing talent and you and Binnie love me too much to drop me!”, he replies before throwing Chan a hand-kiss.  
  
Jep, Minho has decided!  
He really likes Jisung! He can feel, that the both of them have the potential to become friends.  
  
Which is probably a good thing, because looking at Hyunjin, Minho is sure, he will have to play cupid for his best friend.  
  
“Anyone wanna do what we originally came here for now?”, Felix questions.  
  
“No?!”, Minho can hear Chan mumble, but he is drowned out by everyone else agreeing with Felix.  
  
“I'll help you, Channie!”, Jeongin shows some mercy and grabs Chan's hands to pull him along.  
It results in another shriek from the blond.  
  
“Innie, don't you dare let go again!”  
  
Jeongin only laughs.  
Laughs, openly and genuinely.  
  
A part of Minho fills with relief at the sight, but the other feels numbly irritated.  
  
Like a bugging incomprehension for Jeongin's feelings, that leaves a wrong twist in Minho's guts.  
  
He isn't sure why, because his brother being happy is something he would consider one of his main goals in life, but somehow, his emotions remain confusing.  
So Minho locks them away, for later use.  
  
He gives Hyunjin a quick tap to wake his friend from his trance.  
  
“Have your systems powered up again, you useless gay?”  
  
Hyunjin punches his arm in frustration.  
  
“Shut up!”, he snaps.  
“No one prepared me for … THIS!”  
  
“ _'THIS'_ is a synonym for a certain black-haired twink with a sparkling personality and horrifying parking-abilities?”, Minho asks to confirm and smirks, when Hyunjin goes over to attacking him.  
  
To escape the hits, Minho quickly flees after the rest of their group.  
  
“Lee Minho, I will get you for this!”, Hyunjin promises from behind him, and Minho grins again.  
  
He himself is surprised, with how easily another giggle slips past his own lips.  
It feels good, and yet, the nameless irritation remains in the pits of his stomach.  
Too deep down for him to grasp it, so he settles for ignoring it.  
  
“Catch up first, looser!”, he teases over his shoulder before focusing back on his own two feet to not make the same experience as Chan had a few minutes earlier.  
  
He has enough material for a headache already, even without gluing himself to the glass barrier of the ice-rink for open display.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, the first Minchan chapter!:)  
> Given, its not love on first sight, but then again, this is a slowburn fic;)
> 
> And please don't think, Minho's suffering is finished with this. People can't 'fix' open wounds. Chan can only help Minho nurse his injuries...
> 
> Also:  
> Im sorry to sound so nagging/complaining, but i didn't receive a single comment on the last chapter and it left me a little insecure, whether people are even enjoying/reading this.
> 
> So, to everyone: please leave a comment! Criticism is fine too, if you didn't like the story, because that's what helps me improve!  
> But please, say at least something! Anything so that i know, whether it is worth continuing this story!
> 
> That would make me immensely happy!
> 
> Thank you in advance!  
> Stay save!:)


	9. Ninths (Im a disaster)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About CHan gay-panicking and Jeongin living through his own personal hell once again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, i know i left you guys hanging for way too long and i'm really sorry for that. I just had a huge writer's block plus a lot to study for and that combined just kept me from getting anything done.  
> I'll try better next time, i swear!
> 
> I hope, you'll have fun reading!;)

It's when Jeongin, Minho and Hyunjin have bid them goodbye again, and him, Felix and Jisung are safely stored away inside Changbin's car, that Chan allows himself to melt into a puddle of agonizing embarrassment.  
  
“AHHHhhhh!”  
  
He let's his forehead thud against the steering wheel.  
The impact with the tainted leather does hurt, but nowhere as much as the realization pains him, that he just officially made a fool of himself.  
  
“Are you gay-panicking, Channie?”  
  
Jisung sounds way too unbothered by Chan's meltdown. He has claimed shotgun and is now casually scrolling through his phone.  
  
“I'm not gay, Jisung!”, Chan reminds, but keeps his head leaned forward.  
  
He might as well be, though.  
After Minho, he isn't too sure anymore, whether he has the right to call himself Demisexual.  
  
Sure, it's not like he would jump the guy, but Chan considers that more as something along the lines of decency, instead of lack of sexual attraction.  
  
Because he would be lying, if he would say, that Minho isn't attractive.  
  
Hell, he doesn't think, there is even one sane person out there, who could – with a straight face – say, that Minho isn't one of the finest works of art, the dear god has ever completed.  
  
Okay, so maybe, Chan is gay.  
Or at least, a part of him feels pretty gay at the moment.  
  
Jisung seems to agree.  
  
“After seeing Innie's two companions, I firmly believe, god never wanted any guy to be straight.”, he deadpans without even so much as the twitch of an eye.  
  
Felix head pops up between them from the backseat.  
  
“Channie, are you okay?”, he asks without further comments regarding Jisung's statement, and Chan – once again, because this certainly isn't the first time he thinks that – believes, Felix is a little angel sent from heaven.  
  
“No I'm not.”, he admits honestly, head still against the steering wheel.  
“I'm pretty sure, I made Innie's brother think, I'm the biggest dumbass that has ever walked this earth's surface!”  
  
“Oh come on, it wasn't that bad.”, Felix tries to soothe him, but gets tuned out, when Jisung fervently nods his head.  
  
“Jup, you did look like an idiot most of the time.”  
  
Chan turns his head to the side.  
With his cheek squished against the steering wheel now, he shoots Jisung the darkest look he can measure up in his momentary state of regret.  
  
His friend seems to sense the danger he is in, because he finally lifts his gaze from his phone.  
Meeting Chan's disgruntled expression, Jisung raises his hands in panicked defense.  
  
“Lying is a sin!”, he squeaks.  
“Also, besides: your dumbass seems to have charmed Minho in some kind of way, because he did crack some laughs in the end. At the beginning, I really thought, the dude was made of marble or something with how emotionless he looked.”  
  
Chan had thought the same.  
And he had been sure, that Minho was ready to rip his skin off every moment now.  
  
The moment hadn't come, and Chan was thankful for that, but that still didn't change the fact, that Jeongin's brother now had to be thinking, that Chan was a walking disaster – which actually was only partly true.  
  
“Why aren't you as affected anyways?”, he asks Jisung to distract himself from the memory of his run-in with the ice-rink barrier - right next to Minho.  
  
“You as a proper gay must agree with me, that Minho is a masterpiece of a human being.”  
  
Jisung nods.  
  
“Yeah, I'm totally with you on that.”, he immediately admits in brutal honesty.  
“So was his friend by the way. Such a fucking prick!”  
  
Chan almost chokes on his own spit at the harsh words.  
  
“What did he do to you?”, he coughs out.  
Felix starts patting his back in sympathy.  
  
Picking up his phone again, Jisung shrugs.  
  
“Nothing, he is just so pretty, it's infuriating.”  
  
Felix snorts and Chan lifts his head with a small groan.  
  
“If that's the way you think, then should I take it as an insult, that you liked me from our first meeting on?”, he grumbles, more to himself than to Jisung, as he starts the car.  
  
“Well, I would have hated you, too, probably.”, Jisung provides earnestly.  
“But you were just so YOU, I couldn't do that.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean?”, Chan asks while backing out of the parking space.  
  
Thanks to Jisung's efforts from before, the parking spots to both of his sides have stayed clear, which gives him a lot of room to maneuver.  
  
Felix' head pops up between the two front seats again.  
  
“You're too nice to hate, Channie.”  
  
“Sit and seatbelt on!”, Chan only orders.  
“Also, I'm not nice!”  
  
Jisung chortles so loudly, that Chan almost totals Changbin's car on their way out of the parking lot.  
  
“Christ, Jisung, what the fuck?”, he yelps, just barely passing the lantern post on their right.  
“Don't scare me while I'm driving!”  
  
Jisung doesn't answer, since he is too busy laughing his ass off, but Felix leans forward again.  
  
“Chan, your name and the words 'not nice' only belong into the same sentence, if you want to construct a double negative.”, he explains seriously.  
  
Chan is unsure of how to reply to that.  
Or whether he should reply to that at all.  
Luckily, Jisung saves him from a decision.  
  
“You are nice and hot as fuck, Channie!”, he assures.  
  
Chan can hear his friend's grin through the words.  
He can also feel his own ears heating up.  
Jisung has always been flirty with his friends and Chan has never gotten used to that.  
  
It's not a bad thing!  
It's just that it seems to catch him off guard every single time, even when he already expects it to happen.  
  
“Thank you, I needed that for my self-esteem.”, he grins back nonetheless.  
  
They have almost reached Changbin's and Jisung's apartment by now.  
  
“Understandable, after your performance today...”, Jisung nods.  
  
His voice turns into a shriek, when Chan reaches over with one hand to jab him between his ribs in revenge for his words.  
Felix in the backseat looses himself in a fit of laughter.  
  
“Not needed, Jisung!”, Chan yells over Felix' cackling.  
  
He would like to properly avenge his dignity, but eventually has to withdraw his hand to change gears.  
  
Changbin's scrapheap of a car isn't automatic after all.  
  
“I am currently trying to wipe my memories clean of the embarrassment I felt today, please do not remind me!”  
  
He finally pulls into the narrow parking space in front of the building Changbin and Jisung share an apartment in.  
  
When he kills the engine, Felix' head appears in his line of vision once again.  
Chan is pretty sure, his cousin hasn't used his seatbelt for the entire ride, but where there is no proof, there is no use accusing Felix now.  
  
“But do you really wanna forget today?”, Felix questions.  
“We did have a lot of fun after all.”  
  
“No, YOU had a lot of fun!”, Chan corrects.  
“I had crippling anxiety and a run in with the ice-rink barrier. Right next to Jeongin's artwork of a brother!”  
  
Jisung snickers.  
  
“Don't be salty, Channie.”  
  
He proceeds to loosen his own seatbelt - which Chan had made sure he was wearing.  
  
Thinking about it now, Chan realizes, he should probably have checked Felix' as well before even starting the car.  
But now, it's too late anyways.  
  
“I'm not being salty, I'm suffering!”, Chan huffs, as he clips himself free as well.  
  
His thoughts drift off to today's encounter for a second.  
  
It's as if he can still feel Minho's eyes on him. Intense and sharp, yet somewhat vulnerable.  
Like the ones of a cat backed in a corner.  
  
Knowing it can fight and yet feeling threatened.  
  
Jisung's voice brings him back to reality.  
  
“Dude, are you gay-dreaming?”  
  
Chan makes a face.  
  
“I'm not ga...is that even a word?”  
  
He frowns at Jisung, who only grins in reply.  
  
Felix nods.  
  
“Sure is.”, he agrees.  
“And I think, you don't really want to forget today.”  
  
Again, Chan recalls Minho's gaze.  
And his smile at the end.  
Careful, genuine and, in a way, exhausted.  
  
“Maybe you're right.”, he eventually admits with a sigh.  
“I should just move on and show my best side from now on.”  
  
“Since he has already seen your worst, nothing much can go wrong from now on anyways.”, Jisung teasingly reassures him before fleeing out the door with another squeak, when Chan tries to get at him again.  
  
“Yah, Han Jisung!”, Chan yells after him, but Jisung only sticks his tongue out at him through the window, before he starts skipping up towards the front door of the building.  
  
“This brat!”, Chan mumbles, as Felix wheezes in the backseat.  
“I should boot him up to trouble-child number one.”

________  


Guilt.  
  
That is the feeling which washes over Minho like a tsunami as soon as he is alone with Jeongin again.  
A dirty and gnawing guilt deep in the pit of his stomach.  
  
It's not just uncomfortable but borderline painful, an ache that travels up his spine into his ribcage to invade his heart.  
  
First, Minho tries to swallow it down, to suppress it, digest it – literally anything, so he doesn't have to feel so miserable, but when him and Jeongin finally reach Jongwoo's grave, sky already darkening over them, the emotion seems to have all but consumed Minho entirely.  
  
There is a heavy weight on his chest, as he watches Jeongin bow down to nudge Jongwoo's picture back into place from where it has drooped to one side a little.  
  
As if Jongwoo is keeping his head low in disappointment of what Minho did.  
  
“Evening, Jongs!”  
  
Jeongin's tone is light-hearted, still so happy from their activities from before, but as he starts narrating today's experiences, Minho feels more and more ashamed with every word that leaves Jeongin's lips.  
  
How could he?  
How could he leave Jongwoo all alone just to go and have fun?  
  
Fun, that his brother will never be able to participate in?  
  
“Min even was civil with Channie, the guy that lend your flowers a little while ago.”, Jeongin proceeds.  
  
There is a mocking smirk on his face, when he turns around to shoot Minho a quick look, but when their eyes lock, Jeongin's smile fades.  
  
“Everything okay, Min?”  
  
Minho doesn't know, how to answer.  
  
Nothing is okay!  
But he can't tell Jeongin that.  
Not when his baby-brother is finally smiling again.  
  
Jongwoo always loved to make Jeongin smile.  
  
So Minho wrenches the best smile out of himself, that his tired lips feel capable of.  
  
“I'm fine, just exhausted.”, he assures Jeongin.  
  
His brother doesn't look entirely convinced, but at least he takes Minho's answer as it is and goes back to mumbling a few more words into the direction of Jongwoo's grave.  
  
Minho allows the corners of his mouth to drop back down.  
If only he could drop this heaviness just as easily.  
  
Eventually, Jeongin rises back to his feet with a groan.  
  
“Jeez, my knees feel, like they are fifty years ahead of me.”, he complains.  
  
Every other day, Minho would have laughed, but right now, the amusement doesn't seem to come.  
  
When Jeongin realizes, that Minho won't respond to his joke, the sparkle in his dark eyes begins to die out.  
  
It pains Minho to watch and yet, he doesn't feel capable of stopping it.  
  
“Do you need some more time?”, Jeongin asks.  
His voice is just as dull as his gaze now.  
  
A part of Minho wants to hug him, to apologize, but he does neither.  
  
Instead he mutters a quiet “Give me a few minutes.”, before he crouches down in front of Jongwoo's picture himself.  
  
Behind him, he hears Jeongin's soft sigh, before the younger's steps on the gravel fade away into the direction of the graveyard's exit.  
  
When silence finally surrounds Minho, he forces himself to look up at Jongwoo's picture.  
  
His brother's features are blurring under the fading light of day, and yet, Minho believes to feel the older's gaze on him.  
  
“Hey Jongs.”,he starts.  
  
His voice sounds frail in the solitude of the cemetery.  
  
“I'm...I'm so sorry I'm so late again.”  
  
_'No need to apologize!'_ , he means to hear Jongwoo say.  
_'You know I always tell you to get out more.'_  
  
Minho almost scoffs.  
  
Of course, Jongwoo would say that!  
He always forgave everything, always wanted the best for everyone while forgetting about himself.  
  
“It won't happen again!”, he assures into the quietness.  
“I'll make sure, to be there in time for you not to feel so lonely from now on, okay?”  
  
_'Minho, you don't have to time your live after me.'_ , Jongwoo protests.  
  
Minho can hear his nagging tone in his head and it almost makes him smile.  
  
_'I won't go anywhere. I'm still here whenever you choose to visit.'_  
'And that's just the point.', Minho thinks.  
'You will be here and nowhere else, because there is nowhere else for you to go, not because you chose to stay here.'  
  
“I gotta get Joengin home now.”, he says instead.  
“Can't have our little brother catch a cold, now can I?”  
  
He bets, he hears Jongwoo agree with him.  
  
“Rest well, Jongs, I'll be back tomorrow, maybe bring you some fresh flowers.”, Minho bids his farewell.  
  
As he pushes himself back up as well, his knees crack a little.  
  
“Jeongin is right.”, he mumbles in Jongwoo's direction.  
“My knees feel hella old, too.”  
  
There is no answer this time.  
  
After a few seconds of waiting, Minho finally turns around and goes to find Jeongin.  
  
The weight is still there, seemingly pressing him into the ground with his every step, as if he wants to bind Minho to the graveyard as well.  
  
'I would deserve it.', Minho thinks.  
  
Immediately, Jongwoo is by his side again to deliver an imaginary mind-slap to him.  
  
_'One of us is enough!'_ , the older chastises, and the heaviness in Minho's heart seems to double at the meaning of Jongwoo's words.  
  
When he steps out the graveyard's gates, Jeongin's silhouette loosens itself from a bench not too far away and comes his way.  
  
“Done?”  
  
Jeongin sounds as if he is trying to put up a happy front, like he used to do so very often when Jongwoo's condition had worsened once again.  
  
It's achingly familiar, a comforting memory from when they were still three, and at the same time, Minho wants to eliminate it for the rest of eternity.  
  
The duality leaves him numb and unable to react.  
  
“Min?”, Jeongin asks, when even after a few moments, Minho doesn't answer.  
It manages to pull Minho out of his frozen state, at least far enough for him to manage a short nod.  
  
“Alright then...”, Jeongin trails off, his bright fake tone finally filling with the exhaustion, Minho can see in his eyes as well.  
“Let's go home!”  
  
Silence surrounds them, as they start their way back.  
  
Minho wants to break it somehow, but nothing comes to the forefront of his tired mind.  
  
So eventually, he only sends a silent apology towards Jeongin in the hopes, his brother might catch onto what he wants to say but can't put into words.  
  
The resignation in Jeongin's eyes tells him the opposite though.

_______  


The first thing, Minho does, once they reach home, is switch on their TV.  
  
Stoic voices fill the silence of their apartment, but if Jeongin is honest, the rooms appear even more abandoned like this.  
  
HE feels even more abandoned.  
  
Especially when Minho plops down on the couch, his empty gaze settling on the tv screen.  
As if Jeongin is not even there.  
  
His grumbling stomach reminds Jeongin of his existence plus the fact, that he hasn't eaten anything today, save for his breakfast.  
And even if he watched his brother eat ramen before, he is sure, Minho should be hungry as well.  
  
“Min?”  
  
The sounds of the movie drown out Jeongin's careful attempt of catching Minho's attention.  
  
His brother keeps staring into space, not even really watching the show but rather something, Jeongin can't see.  
  
Bitterness settles in Jeongin's stomach before it slowly begins ascending his throat.  
  
It's always like this.  
  
At some point, Minho always drops back, looses his fight, fails the level he is currently working on.  
  
No matter how big the advance Jeongin thought his brother had made, in the end it's always the same. Always the same damn pattern.  
  
Graveyard – drop – silence – TV – game over.  
  
His appetite is gone, but Jeongin's stomach continues to rumble, until he finally caves in and trudges past his apathetic brother into the kitchen.  
  
There he begins a thorough search for nutrients.  
Unfortunately though, their leftover stocks are practically non-existent.  
  
A few more cornflakes is all that their pantry has left to offer.  
  
When Jeongin inspects their fridge as well, he is greeted by some milk and a glass of pickles that Jeongin doesn't even want to touch, because the only one of their family, that ate pickles, had been Jongwoo.  
  
Whatever that says about the glasses age, Jeongin really thinks he is better off without knowing.  
  
With a sigh, he closes the fridge again.  
  
So much for dinner!  
He really needs to go grocery shopping, since it is pretty clear, that Minho won't be much help on that matter.  
  
Jeongin has half the mind to simply ignore his stomach's complains and just go to bed, when suddenly, his phone vibrates in his pocket.  
  
'Domesticated Kangaroo' is the name displayed on his screen and Jeongin doesn't even hesitate for a second to pick up.  
  
“Hi Channie!”, he opens while scanning their shelves one last time to make sure he hasn't missed anything.  
  
“Heya Innie!”, Chan's voice greets him back and somehow, it manages to dispel the blubbering acid, that still lingers somewhere in the pit of Jeongin's stomach.  
  
“Have you and your brother reached home safely?”  
  
“Yeah, we're both fine.”, Jeongin assures.  
  
At least under the topic of physical wellbeing, they are.  
His brother's mental health is not something Jeongin wants to even so much as scratch though.  
  
“How about you?”, he asks back instead.  
“Got home as well?”  
  
Chan huffs a little chuckle through the speaker.  
  
“Fine, you know, just nursing some bruises from my blind-date with the wall today, but other than that...”  
  
A giggle escapes Jeongin and he holds his breath for a second to listen for Minho, but his brother keeps silent.  
  
So Jeongin decides to ignore the other as well and focus on Chan only.  
  
“Well, no one told you to starfish it out on the glass barrier.”, he reminds the older.  
“Min would have liked you without you sacrificing your honor in front of him.”  
  
Sputtering can be heard from the other side of the line and Jeongin grins.  
  
Chan is just too easy to get to.  
  
“Yah, don't you dare tease me because of this too!”, Chan eventually wails out.  
“Jisung and Lixie were already horrible on our way back. I don't need that kind of betrayal from my youngest child as well!”  
  
Right. The child thing.  
Jeongin has long given up on fighting against Chan's obsessive need to adopt all his younger friends.  
  
He has been a part of the family ever since week three of knowing Chan and by now he has grown used to his new foster parent.  
  
“Aww, poor Channie!”, he coos back, just because he can right now, since Chan isn't near enough to shut him up.  
  
The latter answers with a suffering groan.  
  
“What did I do to deserve this disrespect?”  
  
Jeongin skims through their pantry for the third time, but unfortunately, the cornflakes still haven't multiplied.  
  
“Do you want to help me choose my dinner?”, he eventually breaks up Chan's rambling.  
  
“I get to choose between cornflakes, cornflakes and sweet nothing and its just too hard of a choice to make it all on my own.”  
  
The line goes silent for a second.  
The next time Chan speaks up, his voice is heavy with accusation.  
  
“Jeongin, why are there only cornflakes in your kitchen?”  
  
Jeongin winces.  
  
Right. Chan's dad-senses are a thing.  
Concerned-parent-mode activated.  
  
Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the cornflakes.  
  
“Min and me might have forgotten the go grocery shopping in time...”, he hesitantly gives back.  
  
Even through the phone he can feel Chan's eyebrow-raise.  
  
“And how often have you 'forgotten' about grocery shopping, that it got down to only cornflakes?”  
  
“It's not _just cornflakes_!”, Jeongin protests with a clean conscience.  
  
There are still the pickles after all.  
  
“I'm just not sure, how eatable the rest of what we have is.”  
  
Chan heaves a sigh so deep, Jeongin is sure the ocean is a puddle in comparison.  
  
“We're going grocery shopping tomorrow, Innie, and that is final!”, the older huffs.  
“As for now...do you guys still have some sugar?”  
  
Jeongoin has no clue, what Chan wants with that information, but he checks their sugar dispenser nonetheless.  
It's still half full.  
  
“Yup, sugar is available.”  
  
“Then congratulations, your dinner today will be cornflakes with sugar.”, Chan deadpans.  
  
Jeongin snorts.  
  
“Okay, thank you so much for your help with choosing, but why the sugar, though?”  
  
There are a few seconds of silence, before Chan finally replies, tone slightly peeved.  
  
“Because cornflakes taste like shit without it.”  
  
It takes Jeongin a full span of three minutes, before he finally manages to stop laughing.  
  
He has no idea, what of Chan's statement it was, that sent him beyond any state of saving, but for some reason, the older's words are hilarious to him.  
  
“Are you done?”  
  
Chan's voice is a mix of irritation and warmth.  
Something, Minho used to carry along with himself for a very long time, before Jongwoo died.  
  
Jeongin makes a strong effort not to think about either of his brothers right now though.  
  
Instead he takes a deep breath.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, peachy!”, he replies eventually with a small giggle.  
“Couldn't be better! Cornflakes with sugar it is.”  
  
Chan huffs again.  
  
“Don't laugh at me! Eat your cornflakes and go to sleep! It's late.”  
  
“Yes, dad!”, Jeongin retorts mockingly, but Chan only laughs.  
  
“Seriously, go to sleep, Innie!”, he reminds one last time.  
“I'll text you tomorrow about the grocery shopping, kay?”  
  
The warmth of Chan's voice seems to pour through the speaker and right into Jeongin.  
It fills him up and lets him forget about the cold solitude of his and Minho's apartment for a few seconds.  
  
“Yeah okay!”, Jeongin gives back.  
  
There is a smile on his lips despite the prospect of having to eat cornflakes for dinner.  
Seriously, Jeongin has had worse.  
  
“Goodnight, Channie!”  
  
“Night, Innie! See you tomorrow!”, Chan returns the goodbye, before the line goes silent.  
  
Slowly, Jeongin pulls his phone from his ear.  
  
With Chan's voice gone, he can hear the tv all the more clearly again.  
Can pick up on the lack of noise Minho makes.  
  
His brother is probably deep in thoughts again, caught in memories that will never return, no matter how much Minho wishes for it.  
  
For a few seconds, Jeongin stands frozen.  
  
A part of him wants to ask Minho, whether he wants some cornflakes as well.  
  
But the other part – the more realistic one, unfortunately – knows, that Minho won't reply anyways.  
That he will ignore Jeongin once again.  
  
And Jeongin can't deal with that one more time today.  
  
So instead he pours himself a big bowl of cornflakes and fills it up with the last bit of milk.  
  
He's never eaten cornflakes with sugar before, since he doesn't really have a thing for overly sweet things.  
But Chan recommended it.  
  
Even if it might taste like shit in the end, Jeongin would rather be reminded of the blond with his every bite than to dwell in the mix of his own self-pity and loneliness.  
  
So dutifully, he pours a decent amount of sugar over his cornflakes before settling down on top of the kitchen counter.  
  
Bowl in hand, he tries a spoonful.  
  
As expected, his face contorts upon the unusual sweetness, but nonetheless, his stomach jumps in delight at the prospect of finally getting something to eat.  
  
Jeongin doesn't hesitate to empty the entire bowl.  
  
Screw the taste, he is just glad to be able to eat something.  
  
Hopefully, he thinks while dumping his bowl in the sink, tomorrow they will be able to finally stock his and Minho's fridge up again.  
  
Grocery shopping isn't exactly Jeongin's favorite type of weekend activity, but with Chan coming along...  
  
Jeongin grins.  
  
This could even be fun.  
Things always seem to drift into chaos, when Chan is around.  
  
Even though that usually is Jisung's slash Felix' fault.  
  
But that's just one of the downsides of being a parent.  
  
Parents take over responsibility for their offspring after all.  
Chan just made a bad choice by deciding to adopt Felix and Jisung!  
  
Jeongin slips past Minho's brooding figure on the couch and heads for his own room without sparing his brother another glance.  
_______  
  
When Minho regains full consciousness the next morning, it's still dark outside.  
  
His back aches from his night spent on the sofa and he has the worst taste imaginable in his mouth, but still, Minho can't bring himself to move right away.  
  
For some reason, his limbs feel even heavier than the day before.  
As if moving them is a physical impossibility.  
  
With heavy eyes, Minho scans their living room.  
  
The tv is black despite Minho not having any memory of switching it off and the silence weighs heavy on Minho's shoulders.  
  
As if it is trying to suffocate him.  
  
The tv remote, however, is out of Minho's reach, placed on the coffee table.  
A spot, Minho has definitely not left it.  
  
For a moment, Minho stays in his crouched sitting position.  
  
Movement just seems like too much to handle for him.  
  
But eventually, the sound of nothingness around him grows unbearable, so Minho gathers all his strength and pushes himself up.  
  
His back protests so vehemently, a groan escapes Minho.  
Nonetheless he ignores his popping joints the best he can in the favor of forcing himself to his feet.  
  
Standing apparently allows his blood to reach his brain again, because the fog over Minho's mind finally lifts and allows him to form proper thoughts.  
Or rather, one proper thought.  
  
He has to visit Jongwoo.  
He's promised his older brother to visit today.  
  
Minho's ears start buzzing with the quietness around him and so he reaches for the remote.  
  
Only when the chatter of the tv eases his raw eardrums, does Minho feel capable of rational thinking.  
  
The fabric of the shirt underneath his sweater sticks to his back in a very uncomfortable way.  
Courtesy of Minho sleeping in streetclothes in their heated living room instead of his cooler bedroom.  
  
Although the feeling is disgusting, Minho ignores it.  
  
Instead he goes to wake up their coffee machine.  
  
The device roars to life, ready to provide Minho with the dose of caffeine he will need to get through this day without falling asleep standing.  
  
He isn't sure, when he finally drifted off last night, but it must have been way past three in the morning.  
  
Now it's – Minho squints at the digital clock embedded in their oven door, only to realize, that his vision is surprisingly clear.  
  
Right, he didn't take his contacts out last night.  
Which would also explain, why his eyes feel so dried out.  
  
Minho focuses back on the time.  
7:12am. Around four hours of sleep.  
  
He heaves a deep sigh, that turns into a harmonization with the coffee machine, when it lets out a loud beep to signal the finish of Minho's coffee.  
  
The warmth of the mug is pleasant in his hands, when Minho takes it to bring it up to his lips.  
  
The first sip almost burns his entire mouth clean of the ability to taste, but Minho couldn't care less, as the liquid runs down his dry throat.  
  
At least, that way he will neither sense the bitterness of the coffee, nor the terrible aftertaste.  
  
It's a win-win basically, and a win-win-win, when he takes into consideration, that the beverage literally is his fuel for the day.  
  
After emptying half the cup, Minho can feel his brain cells whirring back to life.  
  
It's a slow process, but Minho's just glad, something is at least still happening up in his thinking-bean.  
  
Nowadays, whenever he has to sit through another business class, he swears he can feel himself turning dumber by the minute.  
  
So his one and only to-do for today is visiting Jongwoo.  
And the sooner he gets going, the less time his brother needs to feel lonely.  
  
While sipping on the rest of his coffee, Minho shortly considers showering before taking off, but his stomach starts churning at the mere thought of taking even longer to reach Jongwoo.  
  
On top of that, Minho is not sure, whether he has enough energy to take his clothes off, adjust the temperature of the water, shower, pick out new clothes...it sounds like an awful big amount of work in his head.  
  
Work he doesn't feel capable of accomplishing with only the nutrients of one cup of coffee running through his system.  
  
So eventually, Minho abandons his empty mug and only goes to throw over his thickest jacket.  
  
Lately he seems to freeze more easily and he can't risk catching a cold now.  
  
That would mean having to stay home, and that, on the other hand, would mean no graveyard-visits for at least a week.  
  
Minho can't leave Jongwoo on his own for that long!  
  
The five minutes it takes Minho to locate his keys and his phone, already weigh heavy on his shoulders, expanding to a small eternity during which Minho grows more and more irritated.  
  
It's like a small itch inside of him that grows and grows and that he can't scratch or soothe in any other way.  
  
When he finally finds his keys in his jacket-pocket from the day before and his phone in the backpocket of his pants, the itch has become a small fire.  
  
Realizing, that his phone is dead and that he can't buy Jongwoo flowers, since it's Sunday, does not exactly do wonders in killing said fire.  
It only flickers even more uncontrollable and leaves Minho with the disgusting pressure of helplessness invading his chest.  
  
He is close to tears, when he finally pulls the front door shut behind him with a bang that is definitely too loud for a Sunday morning.  
  
The gray daylight is just about to filter in from the east and the cold air tantalizes Minho's dry eyes.  
  
He has to blink a few times to clear his vision but for some reason, the stinging sensations stays.  
So does the fire inside him that only seems to drain him of his last bits of energy.  
  
Minho feels very ready to scream at something right now.  
  
But there is nothing there and he can't let Jongwoo wait even longer.  
  
So with stinging eyes and a heavy heart, he sets off for the graveyard.

_______  


Jeongin is already awake when their front door falls shut from Minho's departure.  
  
He is lying in his bed, face up to stare at the white ceiling as he listens to the faint blabbering of the still running tv that Minho forgot to switch off.  
  
Other than that it's silent.  
So awfully, lonesomely silent.  
  
Jeongin isn't even sure whether he should be sad or relieved, that Minho is gone right now.  
  
If it were a better day, he would always wish for his brother's presence.  
  
After all, Minho and him grew up to only having each other.  
And Seungmin and Hyunjin on occasion, but all in all, it had only been Minho and Jeongin and Jeongin and Minho for most of the time.  
  
Jongwoo had been a part of their family, sure, but Jongwoo had been more gone than present, always busy with hospital stays, doctor appointments and other checkups.  
  
So even though Jeongin of course had had the usual banters with Minho, that were normal for siblings, he still never had minded the older's presence.  
  
Even after fights it was comforting to know Minho in the next room.  
  
But now, the air around Minho has turned suffocating.  
  
Jeongin often feels, like he can't breathe, like there simply isn't enough oxygen for both him and Minho's depression.  
  
So as much as Minho's absence stings, he can't help the relief floating through his chest.  
  
When he pushes himself up from the bed to get ready for the day, Jeongin can't help the small groan that escapes him.  
  
The ice skating from yesterday had been Jeongin's first exercise in weeks and the muscles of his legs are very insistent on letting him know, just how long he has spared them from any training.  
  
His hamstrings are on fire.  
It's almost embarrassing just how little activity has Jeongin knocked out cold.  
  
Maybe he should take Chan up on his offer to work out with him and Changbin once in a while.  
  
It certainly wouldn't hurt Jeongin.  
Or at least not in a bad way.  
  
Luckily, the soreness in his legs fades a little after his first few steps out of his room.  
  
He first goes to shut off the Tv.  
  
Silence engulfs Jeongin as soon as the screen turns black and as much as he hates the mindless soaps by now, that Minho always switches on, Jeongin can't help but long for some kind of distraction from the quiet.  
  
If he could choose, Jeongin would love to play some music, but he can't do that with Minho in the...  
  
Hold on!  
  
Minho isn't home right now.  
  
Jeongin almost feels like a delinquent, when he retrieves his phone from his room and trudges up to their abandoned bluetooth speaker none of him or Minho have used in months.  
  
After all, Minho goes stark raving mad whenever Jeongin even so much as hums in his presence.  
  
But now, Minho is gone and judging by his brothers mental state last night, Jeongin is sure the older will stay away for at least two hours.  
  
The familiar jingle indicates, that the speaker is connected and Jeongin doesn't waste time to switch to his Spotify.  
  
A few seconds later the first melody fills their apartment.  
And Jeongin can feel the tension being washed out of his shoulders.  
  
He has missed this.  
The music.  
The peace it's always able to gift him with.  
  
There is an abundant difference between listening to music over his cheap earphones and playing it over their high-quality bluetooth box.  
  
The beats just hit different, when you can feel them through the room, the keys actually harmonize with each other instead of blending into a dull static.  
  
It's different. Better in a way.  
  
Jeongin really has missed this.  
  
He turns up the volume just enough, that he will hear the music through their apartment but won't disturb the neighbors in the process.  
  
Not that Mr Choi's hearing is all that good anymore.  
Jeongin bets he could break into the older man's apartment with a baseball bat in the middle of the night to play pinata with the dude's ceiling lights and Mr Choi would still sleep through it all without even so much as a frown on his face.  
  
But Jeongin doesn't want to take any chances.  
  
So with the music on a decent volume he goes about his morning routine.  
  
Shower, clothes, brushing teeth.  
  
Normally, having breakfast is a part of said routine as well, but Jeongin refuses to try the pickles and beside that he doesn't really have any other options left.  
  
Therefore, breakfast will have to wait.  
  
The morning is peaceful in a way, Jeongin hasn't experienced it in a long while and he relishes in it, draws it out till the very last moment – which in the end turns out a little too late.  
  
Jeongin doesn't hear the click of the door lock.  
  
What he does hear, however is the ice in Minho's voice, when it resonates through the living room.  
  
“Turn. That. Off.”  
  
Minho being there all of the sudden comes as such a startling surprise that Jeongin immediately obeys.  
  
He practically leaps towards the speaker to cut off Gaho mid refrain.  
  
Only when the music dies out does Jeongin dare to steal a glance at Minho again.  
  
His brother looks fuming, hair unkempt and clothes still the same as yesterday.  
His eyes are red, as are his nose and his fingers, that peak out from under the monstrous jacket Minho is wearing.  
  
Normally, Jeongin would have laughed at his brother.  
Normally he would have made fun of him, like brothers normally do.  
  
But there is not a single ounce of amusement Jeongin can draw from anywhere within himself.  
  
Minho looks downright miserable.  
And it somehow makes Jeongin want to cry.  
  
“Hey Min.”, he carefully greets.  
  
Minho's eyes soften a little, but nonetheless, his tone is harsh as he replies.  
  
“Don't play music again!”  
  
No explanation.  
Just an order, that Jeongin has heard a few times too often already.  
  
And his guilt gets gets devoured by a slowly building rage.  
A seething mass inside his stomach.  
  
“Why?”  
  
The word is out before Jeongin can think this through, let alone stop himself.  
  
Minho's eyebrows furrow slightly.  
  
“I don't want music anywhere near me.”, he eventually gives back curtly.  
  
Jeongin manages to swallow his scoff, but not his reply.  
  
“What if I want it near _me_ though?”, he tempts.  
  
The boiling mass in his stomach starts mixing with something, that hurts his insides.  
  
He doesn't want to fight with Minho. He just...  
  
“Then take your earphones!”, Minho suddenly barks.  
“I don't care, as long as I don't have to listen to it!”  
  
The fight leaves Jeongin as abruptly as it came before and he can feel his own shoulders sag.  
  
It appears there is no use talking to Minho – again.  
  
“You can't just run away from this forever.”, he mumbles nonetheless.  
  
He would like to say it with more vehemence but the energy within him is gone.  
Ripped from him by the pained expression that shines through Minho's angered mask.  
  
Minho only avoids his eyes with thinned lips.  
  
When he doesn't reply even after a few minutes, Jeongin can't take the tension in the air between them anymore.  
  
He flees out the living room and into his own where he can close the door and shut Minho out.  
  
With frantic movements, Jeongin pulls his tangles headphones out of his schoolbag, curses himself again for not winding them up properly, almost rips them in the desperate attempt to loosen the knots.  
  
Only when the music finally drowns out the silence again, does Jeongin relax.  
  
He sinks down on his bed, curls himself up but even the warmth of his blanket does nothing to dispel the newfound coldness in his stomach where before his rage had warmed him.  
  
He hates this!  
He hates it when Minho has his bad days.  
He hates their fights and the silence and the dumb guilt that always settles in his chest after every argument, even though Jeongin is pretty sure, that not all of this is his fault.  
  
But it feels like it.  
It feels like it every time he looks into Minho's exhausted eyes.  
  
If only Hyunjin were here.  
Then at least, Jeongin wouldn't have to deal with Minho's mood all by himself.  
  
But Hyunjin isn't here.  
  
Jeongin is alone and so is Minho.  
And Jeongin hates it.  
  
The vibrations of his phone interrupt his music and rip Jeongin out of his thoughts.  
  
He clears his throat twice before picking up but still it sounds somewhat hoarse.  
  
“Hey Channie!”  
  
“Hey!”, Chan greets him back.  
  
The older's tone is carefree and light. And warm.  
  
“Ready to stock up your fridge?”  
  
A part of Jeongin wants to start crying and tell Chan all about what he is currently dealing with.  
  
The other part just wants to get out of this apartment and forget all about Minho for the day.  
  
Part three is concerned about leaving his brother all alone in his current state.  
  
Jeongin knows, Minho feels lonely.  
There is a reason after all, why the other can't stand silence in the apartment.  
  
Him and Jeongin are on the same page when it comes to that topic at least.  
  
“Theoretically, yes...”, Jeongin starts hesitantly.  
  
Can he really go?  
They NEED to go grocery shopping after all.  
But Minho...  
  
“But practically?”, Chan asks back with a chuckle.  
“Don't tell me, you feel too lazy. Food is important!”  
  
Jeongin bites his lip.  
  
“It's just...”, he starts but cuts himself off again.  
  
How much can he tell Chan without saying too much?  
Eventually he settles for half of the truth.  
  
“Hyunjin isn't here for today and Min easily gets lonely with nothing to do.”  
  
Chan laughs.  
It's not an amused laugh that looks down on Jeongin for worrying about such a thing but genuine warm laughter that makes Jeongin's heart thrum with comfort.  
  
“Then he can come along! It's better anyways, when the two people, who share a fridge, go grocery shipping together. Felix wanted to come along too, anyways.”  
  
Jeongin isn't sure, whether he can get Minho to leave the apartment again today, but then again, if he tries and Minho refuses, then it's definitely not his lack of attempt that would lead to Minho staying home alone.  
  
And the prospect of having Felix come along – Jeongin can already feel this whole thing starting to spin out of control and into the direction of hilarious chaos.  
  
A welcome distraction, if i's up to him.  
  
“Alright.”, he agrees.  
“Just give us an hour, so Min can get ready.”  
  
He still doesn't know, whether Minho will even agree, but one hour should be enough to either convince his brother to take a shower, or to come to terms with the fact that Minho won't come along.  
  
“Sure thing, I'll pick you up at 10 then, alright?”  
  
Jeongin manages a grin, even though Chan can't see that at the moment, but it's enough to lift Jeongin's own spirits.  
  
“Kay, see you then!”  
  
The line clicks and Jeongin lowers his phone with a sigh.  
  
Now all that's left, is for him to convince Minho of turning himself into a decent human being and come along to the grocery store.  
  
Their fight from before still sits heavy in Jeongin's stomach, but he only has one hour to get both him and Minho ready and therefore there isn't any time to waste now.  
  
So he ignores his stomach, abandons his headphones and walks out the door of his bedroom.  
  
“Min, we're going shopping!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how it is for you guys, but where I live, stored aren’t open on sundays. However, I know of places where they are, so yeah, in this story, grocery stores are open on sundays...
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, i would really appreciate it.:)  
> I can understand though, if you don't feel like it after how long i left you hanging. 
> 
> Stay save and i promise to do my best to update faster for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> how is the writing style? it differs a lot from my last fic because i wanted to try something new, but i gotta know, what you guys think about it!:0


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